


Have Courage, Elsa

by WoBuHuiXie



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Family, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoBuHuiXie/pseuds/WoBuHuiXie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three weeks after The Great Thaw, Elsa couldn't have lived a happier life.  She has a new family to belong to  now.  However, thirteen years of pain and anxiety has done a number on the Queen's psyche, something that cannot be simply fixed in a single day.  Elsa is still terribly insecure, and loathes herself on a regular basis.<br/>To make matters worse, an ancient darkness is seeking revenge against the Royal Sisters' ancestor, and now they are its main target.  Elsa must be forced to face her fears and nightmares if she hopes to prevail.<br/>Otherwise, the Snow Queen will live in bitter irony...<br/>Alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Bedtime Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm just translating this directly from my account in Fanfiction.net.

**I would like the thank _Frozen_  for corrupting my brain until I decided to try my hand at writing for the Internet after years of inactivity, and I would to thank you readers for taking your time to read this stuff.**

**All rights belong to Disney. That is what I'm supposed to say, right?**

* * *

Chapter 1

A Bedtime Story

* * *

"Elsa! Elsa! Wake up! Papa's gonna read us a story!"

"Tell him I'm too tired!"

"Elsaaaaa..." Someone tugged at her hand.

"Oh all right!"

Elsa opened her eyes, and saw a brightly freckled, pudgy face staring back at her with unabashed glee. Her pigtails bounced up and down with every hyperactive hop, and she grinned at her favorite sister with tiny teeth. Anna had been pulling at Elsa's arm with all her might, hoping that her chubby arms could pull her big sister out of her bed. As just a small girl, however, her most valiant efforts had been fruitless.

Next to Anna, a figure towered over Elsa's bed, carrying a thick, heavily-mauled book. The man smiled at her, clearly amused.

"Hi Papa..." Elsa stretched and gave a yawn, hardly noticing her loose hair was sticking all over the place with little dignity. An idle strand brushed past Anna's nose, prompting the little girl to scratch at it.

"That hairstyle is hardly becoming of that of a princess, young lady." The King said solemnly. Then he began to chuckle. "But I'll let this slide for once. Ready for a story?"

"Huh? Oh, sure..."

The King gave another smile, and sat on the bed gently. Anna, being the toddler she was, crawled up with much less grace, struggling to lift her leg over the sheets, and required the assistance of the king's arm to finally prop her up. She bounced on the bed several times before finally calming long enough to sit down.

"Now listen, you two," the King said with a mischievous glint in his eye. It shone brightly in the light of the full moon through the window. "What I am about to tell is a scary tale, passed down from my great-great grandfather, to my great-grandfather, to my-"

"Grandfather?" Elsa flatly interjected.

"No, to my aunt. Don't interrupt." He grinned though. "Be warned, children." He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "This is not just a legend, but a true story that my ancestors experienced before coming to Arrendelle. Can you two guarantee that you will be able to sleep tonight after I'm done?"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh! Tell me, tell me now!" Anna was practically bouncing off the walls with her excitement. Elsa smiled at her, but thought pensively to herself. She was already enjoying a good sleep before Anna and Papa interrupted her. If she were to lose rest over this, both would have deal with a very cross Elsa in the morning.  _A frostbite to the butt will suffice_. "Okay."

The King's face brightened. "Alright, here's how it goes..." He opened the book in his hand, whose pages have wrinkled and yellowed with age. Therewere runes scribbled all over it, some faded and nearly illegible. Dust flew into the as he flipped the pages, causing the King to sneeze heavily. His two daughters giggled at him.

"Ah, here it is. So, do you two know what is a spøkelse is?"

Elsa had to interject. "Come on Papa, everyone knows that ghosts do not exist!"

"Umm... Yeah! Elsa's right! They d- I mean, no, no they don't!" Anna said.

The King raised his hands in protest. "I did not even start the story, and you two are making such a ruckus. Let me continue!" His two daughters settled down. He thought himself lucky that he was blessed with two such incredibly spirited girls, even if that meant he would have to deal with outbursts like this regularly. He cleared his throat. "So, this tale first began when your great-great grandfather Adam was but a young prince, the second son of his lineage. His kingdom once resided in the land of Ravendall, a beautiful kingdom that was famous for its expansive stretches of forests and waterfalls." He smiled at them. "The prince was fearless, strong, adventurous, and maybe just a tad foolish. You see, unlike most people, he loved to explore Ravendall's deep wilderness."

"Why would that be strange?" Elsa remarked.

"That's because the forests were very old. They have been there since Adam's ancestors first came across and settled the land. Many secrets lie within them, hidden for ages to come."  The King waggled his fingers to emphasize his point. "There have been stories of brave men and women walking into the forests, and never coming back. Most believed that those who entered remained lost for eternity, forever looking for a way back to civilization. Not to mention all of the monsters and creatures one could find in there, looking to capture a human to make into their breakfast."

"What kind of creatures?" Anna squeaked, petrified. Elsa merely rolled her eyes.

"Creatures that have little love for sunlight. Elves, denizens of the Fae, goblins, giants, and even trolls!"

"Wow... that's so many..."

"But, as I have said before, your ancestor Prince Adam was brave and strong. He would repeatedly ride into the forests with his trusty horse, and come back well and unscathed. He developed a reputation for being a little loopy-" the two sisters snickered at the word, "-among the royal court, but he was a favorite for the townsfolk. Children gathered around him as he told stories of how he bravely defied death, and would even bring treasures that were clearly not created by human hands as proof. A blanket of woven moss, an axe stained with the blood of its giant owner, goblets made of gold and adorned with the most brilliant sapphires, and other such oddities. Such bounty made his kingdom very rich, and Prince Adam did not hesitate to share the wealth with his subjects."

Until then, the King had been recounting this tale with a fond smile. Almost immediately, he sobered and appeared quite grave. Elsa and Anna looked at him with confusion.

"Then, one day, he came back from his regular excursions, a changed man. He became paranoid, always afraid someone is tailing him, haunting his thoughts everywhere. Prince Adam locked himself in his room out of fear, always believing that a shadow is to come to pass over the kingdom. His brother, the King of Ravendall, clearly knew something went wrong in the forests. He made a thorough investigation, asking experts in all kinds of fields to remedy his brother, who continued to ramble about the end of times.

"The day after, Prince Adam's madness proved correct. A shadow took over the lands, spreading fear and discord in the kingdom. Thick mist hung in the air and surrounded the kingdom, causing all who tried to escape to find themselves back where they first started. Trying to walk straight through the fog caused men to bump back into their fellows after certain time. The skies became perpetually dark, even with the sun shone brightly. The worst part was the cold."

Elsa perked up her ears at the word.

"There was a chill that pervaded the entire town, initially freezing the water, killing plants and animals, even without frost or snow appearing anywhere. Eventually, the darkness began stripping the life of the townsfolk. They died in despair, utterly powerless against this evil force."

Elsa could hardly believe such an absurd tale. Lightless days? Evil shadows? Ha!

Anna, who was sitting quietly for once, was in contrast completely hooked. Her eyes were bugging out so hard, Elsa thought they were going to pop right out.

The King continued. "That was when a Noaidi, a priest of the Sami people, came in. You see, he was a very talented man. Learned in the ways of trolls, he entered the kingdom, unperturbed by the mystic fog, darkness, and cold, and demanded the presence of the king. What other choice did the King have? He let the Noaidi in his castle.

"What the priest told the king was astounding. The source of the misfortune was the cause of a dark spirit, angry with its own life, and lashing out at others in death. It was attracted to the joy spread by Prince Adam, for people can only succumb more to despair if they experienced great happiness first.

The solution to the plague wrought upon Ravendall was awful; the king must banish his brother, Prince Adam, from the kingdom, into the forests of Ravendall, so the spirit could leave his people alone and follow Adam back into the woods. The Prince should be fortunate, the Noaidi reasoned, as his knowledge of the grounds were expansive, and could easily lose the spirit, trapping it in the woods once more.

"With a heavy heart, the king sent his beloved brother away with the Noaidi, armed with only his sword, horse, and a couple days of provisions. There were many tears shed, as the brothers knew Adam could never come back unless he risked the spirit's return. The two men left the fog, never to see the King again. After what seemed like forever, the darkness faded, the mist disappeared, and light shined upon Ravendall once more.

"You would have to thank your ancestor for his fortune. The Noaidi's plan worked, and Adam was rid of the spirit's presence. He gained peace of mind, and eventually found home in a small village, which quickly grew into a rich kingdom with his advice and leadership.

"That kingdom, as you may have probably guessed, was Arendelle. Some say, however, that the spøkelse is still in the forest, forever trying to find the Prince who cheated it out of its prize."

With that, the king closed the book. "That's enough for tonight," he said. "I hope you enjoyed that little tale I told you."

"I loved it! I really really did! Anna squealed. She made swings with an imaginary sword, before slipping on the sheets and falling bodily onto the bed. "I hope I grow up to be brave, just like Adam! Don't you Elsa?"

"Huh, me? I-I think that being brave is great too!" Elsa frowned. "But, is it true that the Ravendall King and Adam never saw each other again?"

Her father gave a sad smile. "Yes, yes it is."

"I hope that never happens with me and Anna..." Elsa looked at her baby sister, whom she was not surprised to see already tucked (and in the wrong bed, mind you) next to Elsa and passed out. Elsa stroked Anna's hair with a cool hand.

The King smiled. "I do not think that will happen anytime soon... Goodnight, my children."

"Goodnight Papa."

Her father closed the door. Elsa turned her head to the window, briefly entertaining the thought of being a hero, riding on a horse with sword raised high. She would never had let anyone die, she thought, and would never be separated from her sister, who, typical of her, began to snore and drool on Elsa's pillow. Elsa, slightly grossed out but amused, drifted into a restful sleep.

* * *

**Basically, _Have Courage, Elsa_  is what happens when you let a high school student run wild with the idea of a potential  _Frozen_  sequel. Specifically, a teenager who can only pay attention to a book long enough if it was part of  _The Dresden Files._  It will definitely show, as I try my best to channel a literal Chinese (Taiwanese?) Jim Butcher knock-off.**

**I probably just insulted his name by comparing myself to him, so forgive me if I were to disappear into the night due to mysterious circumstances.**

**I uh... don't actually know exactly what kind of genre this story belongs to. I mean, it's got fluff between friends and families, guaranteed Elsa Angst, bits of (cringe) comedy here and there, a mostly supernatural angle, and etc.**

**Also, it will get pretty dark later on, but I trust that kiddies should be able to handle a little blood.**

* * *

**Alright, done. Phew! that was a doozy! Look, even if you don't review regularly, drop some comments. I want to know how can I improve, and the resulting headache of writing a story (which I am suffering right now) will alleviate with some acknowledgement. It's selfish of me, but I want to know.**

**For the record, I think I should be able to pump out a new chapter every... what, 4-5 days? Just bear with me. Until then, goodbye! I am going to listen to the Frozen soundtrack. Again.**

**See you guys soon, fans of _Frozen._**


	2. Today's the Day

**Okay, look, I know what I said about the next chapter coming in 4-5 days. It was just that I was so excited to continue the story that I have cooking in my head. I didn't want it to disappear before I can put down on text. As an excuse, I'm going to pull this out of the words of Aikuro Mikisugi:**

**"A man's word is only good on the day it's made."**

**So anyway, still loving _Frozen_ , I believe you guys are still loving it too, or else you wouldn't be reading this, no?**

**All rights belong to Disney, as usual.**

* * *

Chapter 2

Today's the Day

* * *

"Elsa! Elsa! Wake up! The sun's awake!"

"Yeah Elsa! Today's the big day!"

"It's too early in the morning!"

"Elsaaaaa..."

"Fine!"

Elsa opened her eyes, and nearly choked in shock. A giant, brilliantly orange carrot was pointed at her, followed by a misshapen white face. It regarded her with the widest grin anything can possess, with fat flakes of snow dancing in the air around it. In surprise, she pushed herself out of her bed quickly as possible, only to have her head bump into something hard and sharp. Elsa's vision flashed white, and she fell back onto her mattress, feeling around for what will surely become a new bump on her skull.

"Ow! Owowow... Talk about a wake-up alarm... Oh, Elsa! You're not hurt, are you?"

Elsa raised her eyes. A young woman was looking at her, her blue eyes full of warmth, even as she was rubbing her chin in pain. Her little pigtails had grown into two strawberry, braided locks that went down her shoulders. Her once pudgy, freckled face became that of a joyous girl, one who loved all and deserved to be loved.

"A-Anna?"

The girl's face brightened. "Hm? Me? You are talking about me, and not some other Anna in this room, right?"

"W-What are you doing here? How did you get into my room?" In any other circumstance, Elsa would have been shouting. She would have panicked, and scrambled to stay as far away from Anna as her room can permit.

But, out of sheer dumb luck, she was just so  _tired,_  she couldn't be bothered. "What is that thing there..." She pointed at the creature. Upon closer inspection, it was a snowman, one that was somehow carried into her room. A cloud drifted above its head, producing snow that fell lazily. It possessed a rather nostalgic air to it, one of happier times long past.

Both the snowman and the girl looked at each other, their smiles faltering.

"Elsa..." The girl said. "Are you okay?"

Something clicked in Elsa's exhausted mind. "You've grown."

"Pfft. Well, yeah! Of course I would have grown! I could have sworn that when I was with Kristoff yesterday, I was able to meet eye-to-eye with his nose! Or would that be eye-to-nose? And maaaayyyybe I was standing on my tippy toes..."

"Anna, I'm sorry."

"I even think he wa- wait, what? What do you have to be sorry about?"

"It was just a dream, that's all." Elsa seated herself on her bed. As she grew older, Elsa never permitted her hair to go wild, even in sleep. It fell down her shoulders with the utmost grace of a queen's. "I'm still getting used to the Open Door Policy." She peered at Anna and the snowman, her eyelids still gritty and heavy. "Ah, you're Olaf. Did you two sleep well last night?"

Anna's previously crestfallen features turned into a cheerfulness so alarmingly fast, Elsa's weary mind threatened to black out. "I should say the same to you! You must have slept really well, considering you were in bed since, like, 8 o'clock last night-"

"-And you did not come down for breakfast this morning!" Olaf added.

"Oh. I'm sorry to have bothered you two, then."

"No! It's no bother for either of us at all!" Anna and Olaf protested. "But..." Anna continued, slightly sheepish. "You might wanna get something in your system right now. It's, 11 o' clock right now, and I really, really don't want you to pass out today when you head outside..."

"Outside... Wait, outside? Outside for what?"

"Wow, you must have been sleeping REALLY heavily. Not that that's a bad thing, I don't think... Or is it? Maybe if there was a fire, and you couldn't wake up-"

"Anna. You're rambling. What's going on?

"Well, today's your first Royal Visit! You're heading to town in, uh... 30 minutes!"

In eighteen years, Anna had never seen Elsa jump out of her bed. In eighteen, long-awaited years, Anna had never seen Elsa besides the pinnacle of dignity and sophistication. Today, she was fortunate to have bore witness to the wondrous, valuable sight of Elsa in a state of wild unrest. The Queen literally flew from her mattress, scattering bed sheets everywhere, completely under-dressed, jabbering incoherent words, and hyperventilating. She fell to her knees on the floor, and bounced back up, pacing back and forth in rapid succession, spreading small snowflakes everywhere, before zooming out of the door. A thin trail of frost followed behind her.

"Wait, where are you going!" Olaf cried, twiggy arms outstretched. He faced Anna, saying, "I'm going to check out what's happening."

He waddled towards the doorway, spreading snow everywhere, and peeked out. He grinned. "Oh hey, I was just talking about yo-"

An inadvertent kick by the Queen rushing back into her bedroom beheaded the poor snowman, sending his carrot-adorned, smiling face sailing through the hallways. The body raised a hand to feel for the spot where Olaf's head had originally rested on.

"Oh no! Olaf, I'm so sorry!" Elsa exclaimed.

"No problem Elsa," his voice echoed through the halls. "That was a lotta fun! Now, c'mere, body..." The headless body waddled out of the doorway, into the hallway. Naturally, it walked to the opposite direction of its head. "Nonono! Come back!"

Elsa grabbed the walking snowman, and turned it to the right direction. It gave her a thumbs up.

"Thanks Elsa! I'll see you at the gates, guys!"

Elsa entered her bedroom and sat in front of her dresser, face flushed and still breathing rather rapidly. Anna, who had standing in the same spot since Elsa's little panic episode, stared at her with wide eyes in astonishment.

Elsa giggled nervously, her eyes shifting everywhere. Her hands lied on the table, trembling. "C-can you help me with my hair, Anna? I don't think I can concentrate very well..."

Anna pointed at herself, still stunned. "Me? You are talking about me, right? Of course you are talking about me." She stood behind Elsa, braiding the Queen's hair. "You do not seem to be yourself, sis."

Elsa sighed. "No, I'm not." She gave her beloved baby sister a wistful look through the mirror, admiring the positive energy Anna always seemed to carry around with her. "I'm such a coward. You can tell I am scared, right?"

"Scared?" Anna was confused. "Why would you be scared? It's just a required visit to town, to see how everyone is doing. Me, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven do it all the time! Except, well, they weren't really required and all-"

"Yes, but there will be so many people there! I-I don't think I can bear the sight of seeing them all. Oh, they are probably still afraid of me..."

"What about that ice rink you made for everyone two or three weeks ago? It was such a beautiful act that you did! Everyone was happy, especially you!"

Elsa forced a pained smile. "I was just happy I was able to do everyone a favor, and give you what you deserved." She thought of fearful eyes all around in the darkness, giving her accusing looks for the pain and cold she had made them suffer, invading her conscience. She shook her head, sighing. "I'm still not good with people."

Anna felt a chill beneath her feet. A thick coat of white frost had been emanating down Elsa's seat, and spreading onto the carpet floor. Snow began falling, without any apparent source to produce it.

"Elsa?" She finished the braiding.

Y-yes?" Elsa swallowed hard. She looked at the mirror, pulling her braid over her shoulder. The resulting hair was not unlike what she wore as the Snow Queen.

"Just look at the mirror... Look at yourself. Do you see how beautiful you are? How much courage and love you possess?" Anna laid her hands on her sister's cold, pale shoulders. She could feel Elsa's body shiver and tense up. "You gave me everything that I could have ever wished for. You opened the door, and let me in, for the first time in thirteen years. You are not a coward. You are the best sister I could ever have, and don't you forget it."

The snow slowed to a stop, hanging in the hair as if by invisible strings. A long minute passed in a slow crawl, serving only to highlight the tension in the air. Then, the frost lifted itself off the floor, clinging to the edge of Elsa's clothes. Ice crept inwards, towards her center, transforming her sleepwear into an elegant dress, lined with extra ice to form rosemåling patterns. Enchanted cloth woven from snow rested onto her neck like a high collar, fanning out into a glittering cape. The hanging snowflakes fixed themselves into Elsa's platinum blonde hair, letting the sunlight dance even more from her head.

"Anna..."

"Yes?"

"I'm fine now. Thank you." She plucked a lipstick from her dresser. "I'll meet you at the gates soon. Don't worry about me."

Anna grinned. "I knew you could do it. Do you want some tea before you go?"

Elsa smiled back at her. "Yes, that sounds wonderful."

"Okay! Great!" Anna's hands sunk further down Elsa's shoulders before wrapping around into a hug from behind. She wanted to convey her love and pride for her sister, who has been through so much, and progressed so well. Elsa reacted with a shiver of surprise. Her skin was cool to the touch.

After a short while, Anna let go of her sister, and dashed out of the door. Before it closed, she poked her head back in. "Um, bye!" She waved her hand at Elsa before disappearing once more.

Elsa waved back, and returned to her make-up. The woman in the mirror stared hard at her with accusation.

_You cheated, Elsa. You have been looking at Anna the entire time._

* * *

_6 hours ago..._

A lone, stout figure stood on a hilltop overlooking a huge forest, one so massive it stretched for miles, expanding into the horizon and meeting with the starry sky. The creature held a crooked staff made of aged wood, decorated with large crystals that glowed and hummed with power. His mane of wild hair bristled in the night breeze. Despite his comically large nose, his wizened, stern eyes, furrowed eyebrows, and tightened mouth formed a face that was intensely grave.

A small, rounded stone, covered in moss, rolled up the hill and came to a stop next to the creature, before turning into another figure similar in build.

"What is it, Grand Pabbie?"

"The Spøkelse of Ravendall. It has found its way through the Lost Woods."

"Oh, oh no. It'll be heading for Arrendelle! We have to warn the kingdom! Tell them to run!"

"That would have been the correct choice, generations ago. Unfortunately, it has grown too strong to be subdued forever. It will plague other lands, forever chasing the work of Adam the Adventurer. The threat has to be annhilated."

"But we can't possibly do that! We aren't human!"

"We can't, I agree. But,  _they_  can." Grand Pabbie turned to the younger troll. "Have Helge send word to the Queen and the princess, tell them to find their Father's book! Quickly!"

The troll began to scamper, but he stopped himself. He looked at Grand Pabbie in confusion. "But, what will you do, Pabbie?"

The old Troll King tightened his grip on the staff. "It is much too strong for me to stop it now. The best I can do is to slow it down, until the Queen is ready." He brandished his staff, waving it at different angles, and muttered ancient runes of power.  _How long has it been since I had to use this,_  he thought.  _How many centuries ago was it..._  The air shivered in response to his incantations, and a golden light pulsed from the yellow crystals fixed in the troll's staff. It washed over the forest, causing the leaves to stir and rattle as if by a strong wind.

_Elsa, do you still doubt yourself? Do you still believe yourself to be alone and powerless to help anyone, even with all the gifts that have been given to you?_

* * *

**Aaaaannnnd we got another one down! I'm not sure when the next chapter will be available, but its not like I put all of my focus into school. 4-5 days sounds about right to me.**

**Like I said, please, please leave a review. I want to read feedback, no matter how sickeningly sweet or bitter! For example, are my characters acting out-of-character? I hate it when people are acting OOC by accident, unless they risk triggering my OCD! Get it? Haha... (As a disclaimer, I'm sorry for using a lame OCD joke to people who genuinely have OCD. I will never be able to understand what is it like to have OCD, and I commend you for being strong enough to push through despite the many, many difficulties it poses.)**

**So, reviews! Give it to me! Or else, I might not be able to improve my writing. Thank you all for reading this, and good afternoon! See you guys soon, fans of _Frozen!_**


	3. An Open Door

**Hello, dear fans of _Frozen_! I kept my promise! I released it into the wild within 5 days!**

**I'd like to celebrate the fact that _Frozen_ won the Golden Globe for Best Animated Feature, the first of the Disney Animated Canon films to have done so, as well as breaking more than $700 million in the box office. Without even reaching China yet. Seriously, that is quite the feat.**

**Again, I cannot thank you guys enough for taking your time to read this story.**

**As a side note, I made a few editing changes to the previous chapters. Nothing that merits a second look, mostly a needed quotation mark here, and a less repetitive word there, except for The Rant, which has something at the bottom for anyone interested.**

**As usual, all rights to _Frozen_  belong to Disney, along with many, many other things. I'm looking at you, you freaking giant entertainment empire!**

* * *

Chapter 3

An Open Door

* * *

"Tea, Your Majesty. Courtesy of your sister." The plump man bowed to her, without spilling a single drop from the cup he held.

"Thank you, Kai."

Elsa was at ease around one of her most loyal staff. He had served his masters as far back as she could remember, as both butler and messenger for the royal family. Kai was one of the few men who were trusted enough to continue providing support, as well as stability, during her thirteen years of isolation.

Elsa took the ornate, steaming cup and saucer from Kai, and sipped . She felt the tea's heavenly aroma fully occupying her sense of smell, as vibrantly fragrant as the exotic palace flowers, and the tea's warmth spreading throughout her entire body, a delicious, tingly sensation. It began in her core, and laced its way to the tips of her fingers and toes.

After drinking the rest from her cup, Elsa's gaze wandered around the Grand Hall. "Kai, this tea is amazing..." Her dark eyebrows, contrasting against her nigh-white hair, furrowed. Neither Anna nor Olaf were anywhere to be seen. She was expected to be in town for a meal in ten minutes. "Where are those two? I thought they would be here waiting for me."

"Ah yes, the princess and Your Majesty's snowman. They had... urgent matters at hand, and will be unable to attend the Royal Visit with you."

"What!?" Elsa couldn't believe what Kai had said. She began to feel an itch crawl up her back, powerful and irritating. Not to mention her hands. She dug her nails into them, and realized that there were no gloves to cover them. Her breath shortened, and lightheadedness threatened to topple her over. The air dropped a few degrees in temperature.

Kai, thanks to years of servitude under the most turbulent family in living memory, maintained his composure in front of the now-frenzied Queen. Nevertheless, he understood Elsa's reaction, and planned ahead. He dug around his pockets, and procured a crumpled piece of paper. "I have a note written by them before they left."

The note was hardly larger than a playing card, and was covered hastily written scribbles. He peered at it, and cleared his throat, loud enough to capture Elsa's attention. With the most deadpan expression he could deliver, he read, "'Gone fishing.'"

A frantic Elsa stared at him with befuddled eyes. "H-huh?"

"Ah. Wrong part, didn't realize it was crossed out..."

Elsa was at a loss for words.

"'Super-special da-' No, this one too... 'Kris-' ...How risqué. Here it is." He cleared his throat once more. "'Queen Elsa, Olaf and I will not be able to attend the Royal Visit with you today, because I have some really, really serious... stuff. Yeah, that's right, stuff that I gotta do with Kristoff. Me and Olaf and Kristoff and Sven. Together. Immediately. I will not be able to see you, find you, contact you, talk to you, or rescue you from the masses until I am done with this urgent-" He squinted his eyes. "-thing. Things. Signed by Princess Anna of Arrendelle.'" He folded it neatly and placed it back inside his pockets. "She always did write as she thinks." He sighed. "I can't say that her handwriting has done much to improve my eyesight. Also, you would have thought she could spell her own kingdom's name without two 'r's' by now..."

Elsa was not paying much attention. She was pacing back and forth, running her hands over her hair in frustration, causing errant strands of platinum hair to fly free.  _Curse you, Anna! Running off with Kristoff when I needed you the most! You're certainly going to have fun and easy without me, whatever you are doing, while I am forced to deal with this nightmare of a situation... Stupid Anna..._ Elsa's train of thought came to an abrupt halt, and she choked. She was being angry. Jealous.  _Oh no, Anna! What was I thinking!? I owe Kristoff so much for helping my sister! For protecting her because I couldn't..._

_For being there because I wasn't._

Elsa, being who she was, could not sweat. Instead, she left dancing snowflakes in her wake. She stood in the hall, holding herself, isolated from the rest of the world, feeling very much like her Coronation was coming once more. Not even Olaf or Sven was here to save her. "How selfish can I be? What am I going to do?" She muttered to herself, rubbing her hands.

_Where could my gloves be?_

She was no longer an adult, but a young, terrified little girl again. Elsa could imagine all of the eyes that will be staring at her, harsh and piercing. There will be no one to help her ignore them. "W-What happens if this all goes horribly wrong? What if I plunge the kingdom into eternal winter again? I'll be a danger to Arendelle! My people will hate me e-even more! They'll chase me out! How ca-

"Elsa."

She turned to Kai. The squat, balding man had been standing in the same spot since her loss of control. His voice came out, strong and authoritative. "It is unbecoming of a queen to be afraid of her own people." His stern face broke into an expression full of sympathy for her. "Especially for someone with as much capability for boldness as you." Kai lifted the Queen's hands, ignoring her shocked gasp, and placed them lightly within his own. Elsa could feel the heat from his callused palms. "I have the utmost confidence that you will succeed and cherish this day, and that I speak for many of us." His brown eyes locked onto Elsa's bright blue, making sure she heard every word he said. He proceeded to gently brush her shoulders. "You're getting snow everywhere."

Elsa's eyes widened in surprise. She looked around, realizing that not only were there piles of snow littering the Grand Hall, tracing her nerve-induced pathways, but the floor was covered in a thick coat of ice.

"Oh no! I'm very, very sorry for troubling you, Kai..."

"Not at all. I am happy to serve under the Queen, Your Majesty." He bowed, long and low. "I understand the difficulty posed for you, but listen; You have nothing to fear _._  Now go on and have fun."

Elsa could not help but feel touched by his sentiment. "Thank you." She considered her next words before speaking them aloud. "If Anna and the others return before me, tell them that I will be home soon." The sentence tasted strange in her mouth. Kai's raised eyebrows further confirmed the strangeness of such a statement, considering it was  _Elsa,_  the introverted shut-in extraordinaire, who said it.

The Snow Queen walked to the tall, dark and imposing castle doors leading into the courtyard. She paused directly in front of them. Less than three weeks before, she had bolted out in the night, desperate to run as far away from her kingdom as possible. Now, she's attempting to do the exact opposite. She prevented herself just as she began admiring the grain of the wood used to make the doors, and glanced besides her. Kai was looking back with concerned eyes, waiting patiently for the Queen's next move. Giving in to the inevitable, Elsa closed her eyes, breathed twice through her nose, inhaling and exhaling.

_There is nothing to fear._

Half a minute passed, and Elsa open her eyes, ready. She pushed the doors open. Summer sunlight shot through the opening, a thousand times brighter than any candle or lantern within the palace, briefly paining her eyes. She could smell the fresh air, full of scents that mixed together until they were unidentifiable. The summer breeze brushed past her face, and lifted her cape gently. Trees made of ice and the castle's rooftops glittered and sparkled like fire, remnants of the celebration not so long ago. She could hear the fountains gurgling with water, seagulls chirping with cacophony, and the sound of ship bells coming from the around the fjord. Even in all of this din, she could hear the chatter, hoots, and calls from Arendelle's marketplace. In the palace gates beyond, left opened due to the Open Door Policy, she could see the stone bridge leading into town. Embracing the shining sun's light and heat, she walked down the courtyard, admiring the different sensations.

"Queen Elsa!"

The Queen turned around. Kai was calling from the castle doors. "That was a wonderful thing you did with the courtyard almost three weeks ago! I hope you can hold another event like that soon!"

Elsa's face experienced heat different from the sun, and she waved at the portly man. It suddenly occurred to her that, until the disastrous Coronation, Kai, Gerda, and the other servants were the closest people she had to friends. They cooked and cared for her without question, and did much to alleviate some of her years of loneliness. Kai himself was always the one to remove furniture and carpets inevitably damaged by ice, taking advantage of his build to require as little assistance, and consequently as little questions, as possible. The day her parents... left, Kai took extra time replacing the largest, most difficult to replace effects, just so he couldn't leave Elsa alone.

She thought of their assistance and hard work over the years, their care and concern, and a wave of love and gratitude for them washed over her.

From behind one of the sparkling fountains, two pairs of eyes peeked out, one blue, the other brown. They followed Elsa out of the castle gates, where a couple of Royal Guards saluted to her, and disappeared once she was out of sight.

* * *

Kai closed he doors and smiled to himself.  _Mission accomplished_. Queen Elsa forgot to defrost the hall before she left, but at least he performed his duty in assisting both the ruler and the Princess. He had no idea what Anna could be up to, but it is most likely harmless, considering her deep love for Queen Elsa.

 _These two... Looks like I still have many years of duty ahead of me._ He chuckled, not bothered at all by this thought.  _Your parents would be proud._ He tugged at his sleeves, ready for what will surely be a hard day's labor at scraping the frost away before anyone could carelessly slip and break a skull. It was to his great surprise when he turned around, and discovered that the ice vanished.

* * *

_4 hours ago..._

"Grunt" "Snork"

"Hey, hey, what's up with you, buddy?"

Sven gave another impatient snort.  _Get up, lazybones._

Kristoff had always understood whatever Sven tries to get across, even doing voice-overs for his best friend when he was feeling particularly empathetic. Groggy as he was from just waking up, however, he was in no mood to shift the required mental gears.

He heard the familiar whinnies of neighboring horses. He opened his eyes, and remembered he wasn't homeless; he was taken in by the royal sisters weeks ago. His clothes, which originally had been freshened and clean for the first time in months, was littered with musty hay.

"Uh, why am I in the stables?"

A reindeer gave him a deadpan look.

"Right, I was taking a break from yesterday's adventure. And then I fell asleep on this... yeesh, this stuff is filthy." He stood up, sending strands of hay everywhere. His eyes adjusted to the morning sun, which shined cheerily in spite of Kristoff's dour mood. "I swear, that girl will shorten my lifespan by a few years with all of the running around and the hustling..."

"But you still love Anna, no? And that is all that matters, yes?"

Kristoff sighed. "As usual, you are correct."

"Then, what's your issue?"

He scratched at his head, sending more pieces of hay falling down. "It's not like I can't catch up with her, of course I can! It's just that Anna occasionally forgets that not everyone is like her. I just have a slight-" Kristoff paused. He looked cautiously at the reindeer, who looked back at him in slight confusion. "Sven..." Kristoff said, suspicious. "I wasn't voicing you. You didn't suddenly develop the capability to perform human speech, did you?"

The reindeer tilted his head.  _Who, me?_

"Ahem."

Kristoff looked down, around, behind, and found something standing at the corner of the royal stables. Anyone else would have thought someone placed a lumpy, moss-covered, misshapen statue as a bizarre practical joke. But Kristoff, raised by them for much of his childhood, immediately recognized what it was.

"Helge! It's good to see you again!" Kristoff laughed, and bent over and gave the troll a hug, no easy feat given the vast height differences. The small creature did the same, albeit a little stiffly. The troll's necklace, made of blue glowing crystals and a single yellow one, jangled. "You must have been really pushing yourself, staying mobile in the morning! How's Bulda?"

"Please, this is nothing to me. And Bulda's in great shape. She had been rolling plans around for the next time you visit us with your girlfriend."

Kristof's cheeks turned pink. "Oh, that? Well, we're still tak-"

"-Kristoff." Helge interrupted. His face hardened into concern for the young man. "I'm worried for you."

"Wait, what?"

"If that's truly what you feel, if you two really do love each other, then you and Anna should have agreed to sleep the same bedroom earlier, instead of having you stay in this pitiful straw bed."

Kristoff sputtered.

"Now now," Helge continued. He started to inhale. As per troll tradition, he was going to burst into some melodic, long-winded tirade about love. as only love experts should be expected to do.

In a bout of luck that reaffirmed Kristoff of the existence of an higher, loving power, Olaf's head tumbled into the stables, a miniature snow flurry chasing it. The head came to a stop, face-down, right in front of the two. It peeked at both of them, and squealed an exclamation of delight. "Oh look, Kristoff's family is here!"

"Kristoff's family?" A voice replied. "But I don't remember Kristoff ever mentioning his relatives, or anything about-" A young woman, carrying a large sack in one hand, and leading a headless snowman by the wooden arm in the other, walked into the stables. Her twin plaits ran down her shoulders, and she was so freckled, it gave her a permanent faux blush. She spotted Helge. "...siblings."

Kristoff just drank in her presence, a goofy smile spreading unconsciously across his face. Any grievances he had about Anna faded away, replaced by warm love and affection. She smiled back at him, opening the sack to reveal carrots, and bent over to pick up Olaf's head. Upon having its head restored to its original position, the snowman turned away to spit hay from its mouth.

Anna knelt down on one knee to greet the troll. "Hey there little guy, what's your name?"

"It is an honor to be in your presence, Princess Anna." Helge gave a bow. "My name is Helge, and I hail from the Valley of the Living Rock. For the last five years, I have been under Grand Pabbie's tutelage to become the next shaman."

Olaf lifted his head in amazement. "Wow, that's incredibly long! Like, a hundred times longer than my age!" Kristoff chuckled, knowing that Olaf has no idea what he was talking about. "How much time will it take for you to become shaman? Helga's a weird name for a male, by the way. Maybe it's different for trolls?..."

The troll, evidently not catching onto the last comment, gave a crooked smile. "It will take about an age." He shook his head. "But enough about me, I have not come here for a simple family reunion. Grand Pabbie sent me." Kristoff looked at the troll in surprise. Helge regarded Anna seriously. "Anna, Is Elsa with you?"

"Uh. No! She's still asleep."

"How is she doing?"

"I think she is doing great! She has a busy schedule, but she always finish early to make time for us! She's always so quiet, but I've never seen her happier. Then again, I haven't ever seen her much until recently."

"What about her powers? How are they progressing?"

"Oh, she would occasionally freeze a rug or two. I think it's mostly because she thinks too hard, and it's not like she shoots ice by accident. Besides, we always fix it quickly in the end!"

The troll sounded cautious. "'We.'"

"Yes..." Anna drew the answer out, confused. "'We.' I'm always there to help Elsa out of her funk! It's the least I can do for my sister."

"How often are these... 'funks?'"

"Pfft, I don't know, it's not like I'm counting." Anna sounded a little defensive, perhaps for both herself and her big sister.

Olaf raised his hand high. "Oh, oh! I counted, Helga. Maybe its once or twice a day, or something..."

Helge, still not hearing the misnomer, pursed his lips. "She can mange her releases," he muttered, "but not the freq-" He noticed everyone staring, perplexed. "Listen, I do not want to stir panic this early, but you all will need Elsa's powers very, very soon. You, Kristoff, Sven, the townsfolk, the surrounding kingdoms and countries-"

"Wait, what?"

"Pabbie and I have a plan to help, though! We have three days until it comes. I'll explain it tonight, but for now, we make haste." The troll's feet started to lose what little color it had. He tried to move them, shifting his weight, but they remained fixed to the wooden floor. The desaturation crawled up to his knees, and he sighed in exasperation. "My record was up to noon..." Anna and Olaf gasped in shock, worried for the little troll. Kristoff merely shared a look of with Sven. Both were accustomed to troll behavior and habits. Besides, he trusted his adoptive family, including Helge. "What can we do to help?"

"You and Kristoff should be fine, but apparently Elsa still have much progress on managing herself- DON'T interrupt, please." he added to a suddenly very affront Anna. She pouted and crossed her arms. Kristoff could just see the steam rising from her strawberry hair. "She probably have learned and gained enough from Anna as it is. It's about time she puts it to use." He strained to faced them directly, wincing. "I assume the Royal Visit is today?"

Anna had her mouth shut tightly, which was a first. Kristoff was the one who responded. "Uh... yes."

"She's gonna bond with her people?"

"Well, obviously. Isn't that what Royal Visits are for?"

"Give her as much time to get up as possible so she won't think too much before the event."

"Okay..."

And don't attend it with her-"

Anna, forgetting she was supposed to be silent, exploded incredulously. "WHAT!?"

"Just follow her, make sure she is safe..."

"I'm going to miss my sister's first Royal Visit!?" In her rage, she was being very un-Anna-like. Helge was not doing much to ease her temper, only shifting and curling into a ball. "Over my dead body you... y-you... you troll!" she shrieked, pointing a finger. The said troll didn't budge.

"It's no use, Anna. He's held out long enough in the sunlight as it is." Kristoff couldn't help but smirk as he walked over to settle her down. He fished a carrot out of the bag. "Helge really outdid himself this time. I remembered like it was only yesterday when he gave up after only 4 minutes into the morning light. Oh man, the fire crystals he lost in that bet..." He offered the carrot to Sven, who happily took a big crunch, and offered the rest to Anna. Anna grimaced slightly at the reindeer drool glistening in the sun, and shook her head.

"Do we really have to listen to this guy? 'Don't attend it with her'?" She sounded insecure, and shot a dirty look at the round stone, which, despite its lack of anything that can be related to expressions, she could have sworn appeared smug.

"Yeah," said Olaf, mirroring Anna as best he could. At least, he gets points for trying, anyway. "We can't just leave Elsa alone, she's so nice! She needs us." He waddled over to pet Sven on the muzzle. "Must we do what Helga said?"

"Technically, no." Kristoff took a bite of the carrot. "But I trust in Helge's and Pabbie's judgment. We do take up much of Elsa's focus, after all." He paused to mull over his words. "Speaking as a bit of a loner myself, I don't think Elsa would have wanted to be with anyone else when we are around. Maybe your sister can make friends besides us for a change."

"Friends. right..."

Olaf giggled. "Elsa can make more new friends? Anna!" Eyes wide, he tugged at the hem of her dress. "Let's try listening to Helga."

Kristoff rolled his eyes at the happy-go-lucky snowman, and returned his attention to Anna. "I know you have your doubts about what Helge has in mind, and I can understand any that still remains. But Grand Pabbie wouldn't send a troll beyond the Valley, not even one like Helge, without it being really, really serious. Do you believe in your sister?"

Anna sniffed. "Of course I do!"

"Then this Royal Visit should go over without a hassle. Let's take a seat back. If it gets too heavy for Elsa, we pop in, rescue her, no harm done, and we get Helge to spill the beans."

Anna frowned, and thought long and hard before reluctantly agreeing. "Okay..."

Olaf could hardly maintain his excitement. "Fantastic! Let's get real sneaky, and spy on Elsa as she connects with some strangers! Still a weird name for a boy troll, by the way, Helga..."

Anna shook her head at Olaf. "I don't think you should come with us. The whole kingdom knows you, and you'll attract too much attention."

Olaf look deflated, but picked himself up almost immediately. "Then, I'll go find the servants! I'll get them to agree to the plan!"

"That's brilliant, Olaf!"

"Thanks Anna! Wish me luck!" Olaf ran off with vigor and speed, spreading snow everywhere, ready to search for one of the head servants.

Kristoff clasped his hands together. "Great. Sven, keep an eye on Helge."

The reindeer pulled his head out of the sack of carrots.

"Hide him with you, make sure no one tries to remove him."

The reindeer grunted in reply, sounding bored. Anna rubbed his fur assuredly. She was learning from Kristoff on how to interpret Reindeer. "Aw, don't be upset, Sven! We'll get you something special in town while we watch over Elsa."

"Anna. Focus." Kristoff rubbed his forehead tiredly, already predicting the day's events. "Let me list off what  _we_  are going to do: For reasons we could hardly understand but follow out of blind trust, we are going to have your sister late for her own Royal Visit. Next, we abandon her at the door. Then, we stalk Elsa, the Queen of Ice and Snow, for an entire day, watch as she twists in the wind, making sure nobody starts panicking, and hoping with all our might that she won't find us and freeze us to a wall for days for not letting her in on this half-baked idea! We are  _definitely_  bound to survive in one piece."

Anna raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend. "Wow... What happened to your support for the trolls? You really think this is going to work?"

"No."

* * *

**Note: If you guys are confused by Helge's little Medusa Moment, here's an explanation: In the Frozen continuity, Trolls are unable to move when the sun is up. They turn back into stone until the night starts rolling again. It's not stated in the movie, but the guidebook said so, and both troll meetings in the film occurred at night. It's a wonder Kristoff is not nocturnal.** **The fact that Helge was able to stay awake and alert into the morning is supposed to be an unusual feat.**

**As another interesting note, this chapter was supposed to cover more of the story. But, surprisingly, it turned out more _meatier_  (4k+ words, woot!)than I expected, so I have to cut the intended chapter in half and hold off writing the rest for a later date.**

**Also, I don't know when will the next chapter will come. Soon, hopefully, since I don't have school Monday. However, I can't make any promises this time, because midterms are looming over the horizon. And by horizon, I mean next week.**

**It's a shame, I didn't feel too happy with this one overall, and I need to know what you guys think.**

**For example: Is this story progressing too slowly? I kept thinking that I devoted too many words for this chapter even though the characters hardly moved anywhere. Did I draw conversations too long? Did I do too much telling, and not enough showing?**

**Again, please, _please_  review. Or at least favorite and follow. Each one gives my heart a little lurch of joy, and the rest of my body follows.**

**Now _that's_** **a bit of an odd image. Good-bye and see you soon, fans of _Frozen!_**


	4. To Move Onward

**One day, I'm going to write a story about Elsa's confused sexuality. One that will end in ambiguity. Not today, not tomorrow, probably not in this linear timeline, but I will at some point, somewhere. It just sounds like a fun idea that will probably annoy a few people.**

**Seriously, I'm not big on romance or smut. I find Canon ships to be tolerable at most, and it just goes downhill from there. Elsanna is adorable, especially with the fluffy fanart, but... sisters. So maybe I am very wrong, but I have not yet read a story where Elsa is considered either bisexual or asexual. While remaining kid-safe. _That's_  seems like an idea that I will inevitably explore, but just not now.**

**So anyway, 5k+ words in two days of writing (plus extra for scrutinizing editing), woot!**

**Checking the _Frozen_  box office has become a weekly habit on mine. It's broken $750 million now. Hip hip, hooray!**

**While writing this, I was watching _The Lion King_. And  _How to Train Your Dragon_. Sacrilegious, I know, but it has given me something neat to write about. I don't know if the movies had infected my head enough that I can't see what they have done to this chapter, however, so find out for me, will ya?**

**All rights go to Disney, and absolutely no one else. I cannot forgive Disney Channel, however.**

* * *

Chapter 4

To Move Onward

* * *

For years, Elsa learned not to tap her foot out of impatience or anxiety. It was rude, painfully honest, and quite noisy, especially in the once barren palace during the years of isolation and closed doors. Such a sound echoed from one end of the castle to the next, bouncing off the walls, the suits of armor, and the furniture.

Predictably, the rapid tapping of feet used to be an indicator of Anna's presence.

Instead, Elsa chewed on her smoked salmon long after it was a messy and dry pulp, not swallowing at all. Her stomach growled, but she didn't have any appetite whatsoever. Elsa could feel it, an invisible, a near-tangible tension pressing itself against her back. It gave her shivers and goosebumps down her spine, although she could never feel the cold. She had chosen to sit in a corner, faced away from the rest of the chattering restaurant patrons, so she would have an easier time pretending they didn't exist.

_It is unbecoming of a queen to be afraid of your own people_.

But how can she not? From the moment she stepped inside the building, the burly and armed Captain of the Guard by her side, a hush drew over the crowd as if somebody just died. The silence was broken by the scraping of chairs, and all of the adults hastily stood up to bow to her. Only the children, who had little idea what was going on, stayed in their seats.

Elsa closed her eyes, desperately trying to focus on her meal. She wasn't used to eating in such a public place. The clangs of silverware against plates, the incessant chatter, the shouting of chefs, and the squeals of angry little kids grated against her ears. For years, she was accustomed to having her meals sent by Gerda in her bedroom, where she ate in complete, and sometimes miserable, silence. For the past few weeks, she was merely relearning what it was like to sit at the dinner table again, with company. Sure, Kristoff, Olaf, and Anna were present, making such a scene with all of the hoots, the food-inhaling, the throwing, and whatnot. They could replace any chaos in a restaurant all by their lonesome, but that was just them. Elsa felt comfortable and loved there, with everything around that troubled her nonexistent. They were family.

And now there were none to help her ignore the flashes of curious eyes.

"More water, Your Majesty?" A waiter, dressed in uniform and apron, held up a tin pitcher. If Kristoff were here, he'd say that the waiter's chin is sharp enough to split blocks of ice.

Elsa opened her lips to reply, but remembered her mouth was still full of fish. She swallowed, and coughed a little, her faint freckles rendered invisible by her warm cheeks. "Yes, please." She raised her empty glass hesitantly.

"Are you feeling alright, Milady?"

Elsa gave the waiter an inquiring glance, and saw that her hand was in violent tremors, shaking her glass unconsciously. She placed the cup down, perhaps a bit too forcefully, and took a few deep breathes to regain her composure. Cool steam came forth from her dark lips, in spite of the restaurant's heat and the summer air.

A voice inside her head scolded her, sounding familiar in pitch and tone.  _You're the Queen of Ice and Snow! Cool, frosty, all that stuff! More than that, you are the Queen of Arendelle! You should be socializing!_

_But how?_

Elsa thought about her sister, who was  _supposed_  to be with her, chatting up a storm as if no one else existed. As a young woman good with people, Anna could strike a conversation with anyone, or at least rope them in helplessly. Elsa was completely jealous of her sister's talents. Anna could make friends easily. What would she have done in this situation?

_Think like Anna_...

"Excuse me," Elsa called out. It cost almost all of her aplomb. "Sir?"

_Oh no, that was a complete mistake..._

The waiter, who was prepared to return to his station, widened his eyes. "I-I'm sorry, are y-you referring to me?" He evidently never thought the Queen would pay attention to a lowly subject like him, unless if he fouled up her lunch horribly. There was fear and anticipation marring his thin face.

"Um..." The words lodged themselves in Elsa's throat; she was just as afraid herself. The entire world was now conspiring against her, for the restaurant hushed itself, the scraping of forks against plates silenced. Elsa's eyes darted back and forth like a cornered animal. She could feel the attention all focused between her and the poor waiter. With little association to Elsa's powers, the atmosphere became frostier. Her back began itching something fierce. A few mutters slithered among the crowd, no doubt of disapproval for the Queen.

_Think like Anna..._  Anna, without a care in the world...

"B-beautiful weather we're having today..."

That's how Anna would have said, right?

The young waiter blinked, and looked out a window before replying. "Yes, yes it is..." Then, he walked away, quickly as he could without making it seem rude. He will have time to cheer for catching the beautiful Queen's attention later, but he's currently just plain terrified. The restaurant's sound levels slowly resumed back to its original state.

Elsa's cheeks were positively burning now. She didn't know whether to pat herself in the back for progress, or slap her forehead in embarrassment. She decided the latter will suffice. The resultant sting did little to help the headache that was coming around. She sighed, and rubbed her temples with two fingers.

_Can't this day get any longer?_

* * *

The Guard stationed outside of the restaurant stood resolute, but not at all stiff. With dark hair, strong shoulders, towering height, massive arms, and a very well-groomed mustache, he caught the attention of many a random passersby, mostly women. He was a soldier for years, with the accolades and the scars to prove it.

He was also one of the men who assisted in the Siege of the North Mountain Summit under Hans' leadership.

In any other circumstance, he would have done his best to make sure no one gets through to the Queen. Not a single hair on her platinum blonde hair would have been touched by anyone. Instead, he stood outside the door, only looking for strange sights; he was painfully aware of the strength and power of the Snow Queen, and would only require to serve as her eyes.

He thought about the recent turn of events. His Queen had taken to dressing in snow gowns, reminiscent of the one she wore when she was discovered and captured during the Siege. They varied in both style and levels of conservation, but each one sparkled and shined like the sun against the sea.

Still, despite the flashier getup that suggested confidence, Elsa was still the same timid, quiet girl who would prefer to lock herself away from the rest of the world, rather than open up and risk hurting anyone, including herself.

_Captain of the Royal Guard, Arvid of Arendelle, at your service. I will be your escort for the day._

_Thank you, Arvid._

_Your Majesty...?_

_Just... call me Elsa. I appreciate all of the hard work you have done, protecting this castle and my family for years past._

A shot of pain and remorse stabbed his heart, an icicle of self-criticism and doubt. He was almost responsible for his Queen's unjustified execution, had Anna not sacrificed herself out of True Love. It was something he could never have achieved, and it ached within him. Ever since he was old enough to fight, Arvid wanted nothing but to protect his wife and country. Yet, he utterly failed on that day, and nearly exterminated the royal family out of dumb blindness. While Queen Elsa have not taken offense to his sin, Arvid saw the Eternal Winter as the greatest shame of his long career.

Which is why, when he saw a pair of bright blue eyes peeking over a barrel of apples in the distance, he merely shook his head and gestured at his own eyes, rather than come over and shake the suspicious person until her insides rattled. The sapphire eyes widened in understanding, and disappeared. He glanced behind him into the restaurant window, seeing the increasingly distraught Queen.

_Princess Anna, I hope you know what you're doing._

* * *

"Coffee Cake, Your Majesty."

"Oh, thank you very kindly." Elsa forced a smile at the waiter.

_Thank you very kindly, indeed,_ Elsa thought bitterly.  _This restaurant debacle was taking too long. Just hide for another hour, and you can go back home!_

_But you haven't "connected" with a single townsfolk! Think!_

_Think like Anna!_

Elsa took a deep breath, turned towards to the eating patrons, and tapped a lone woman sitting nearby. The woman possessed crow's feet, but boasted a hefty build, with a broad face and broad shoulders, that screamed of strength and resolution. While chewing on her lutefisk, she gave Elsa a stare that was neither maleficent nor friendly.

Elsa nearly forgot what she was about to say. She glanced at her cake. Food. _Food. Right._

"This restaurant sure serves some impressive cuisine, doesn't it?"

The woman stared back at her with piercing, intelligent eyes, silent and indecipherable.

"Um... I suppose you haven't eaten dessert yet? I think it's even more delicious than what they cook at the palace." Elsa kicked herself mentally. The cake laid in plain sight, untouched.

The woman continuing staring. Then, she pointed a thick, gnarled finger. Elsa followed the woman's direction, and realized her cup was starting to frost over. She snapped her hand back. Her heart was beating rapidly, drumming itself against her ears.

"I know you are trying your hardest."

Elsa blinked. The woman had finally talked back.

"I understand what you are trying to do, but I don't completely approve of you just yet."

Elsa merely nodded at this admission, her face neutral.

"I've never been one for monarchs and anything that deals outside of my home and labor. I've worked in a crop farm for years. Look at this hand." She raised one for Elsa to see, which was thick, scarred, caked with years of dirt, and knobby in many places. "The sun has turned my skin rough and dry, the hard work bowed my back, and my hands are almost always sore from pulling vegetables. If it weren't for my husband, I would have never found love anywhere." Her eyes hardened. "The Eternal Winter you brought on us had not just trapped people in the kingdom with snow. It has also destroyed the crops that farmers like me spent months sowing and tending.

"Your policies later have helped in the aftermath," the woman admitted. "But, I have lived through three generations of rulers," Her voice wasn't malicious, but they carried contempt. "And King Eirik's rule never started this poorly."

Eirik. Her father.

_You will never be as good your parents._

Ice shot out of the glass, spilling downwards and onto the table in jagged patterns. Everyone in the restaurant screamed in surprise.

"Please, everyone just stay calm! I can fix it!" Elsa reached for the glass. It exploded into a crystallized star, its many sides shining brightly like multicolored fire, its wicked points fanning out in all directions.

Elsa saw the fearful looks. There was no longer any light shining through the window, no walls that bordered the rooms. There was only the tightly packed crowds and the starry sky, the air becoming thin from everyone gasping at the same time, and the eyes staring at her, contrasting against the darkness like cold flames. Elsa hands twitched harder.

"Your Majesty," Arvid said. Elsa snapped her attention to him. His mustached face did not belong in the memory, and her world was pulled back to the present. "Would you like me to take you back home?"

"Yes! I mean, n-no! Please, just... just wait!" Arvid looked at her, inquisitive. "I-I need time alone. Please, don't follow me."

Arvid looked uncertain, and his dark eyes darted elsewhere. Finally, he said, "As per your orders, Your Highness."

Elsa stood up from her chair on shaky knees, nearly collapsing to the floor. She refused Arvid's offer for help. Then, she bolted out of the restaurant, her cape billowing everywhere. The air Elsa disturbed was tinged with white flakes.

Arvid sadly watched her as she vanished, and shot a nasty look at the farmer woman. She looked slightly troubled by what she has done, but stuck her chin out at him.

"The Queen has a lot ahead of her before she deserves my respect."

* * *

Elsa ran down the town leading a trail of frost, ignoring the gazes and questions of pedestrians. She slowed to a stop at the harbor, overlooking the whole fjord. The wind from the sea blew strongly, blowing her plait and cape off to a side. Breathing heavily, she placed her hands on her knees to rest, and looked down at the water. There were debris, leaves and sea foam that floated and splashed against the wooden poles in waves, before drifting out into the open water, beyond the kingdom.

Elsa briefly contemplated following them, freeing from all of her troubles and responsibilities forever. The possibility seemed tempting, even delicious. Just let all of her worries, her anxieties, her thoughts melt and wash away in the great beyond...

The waves settled for a brief moment, revealing a mostly undisturbed reflection of Elsa. Her icy blue eyes stared back at her pitifully.

But what about Anna?

_Do you see how beautiful you are?_

_You are not a coward._

If she ran away, Arendelle would be plunged into even greater danger and chaos. She wouldn't want to lump that on anyone, most especially on Anna and her new family.

If she ran now, she would never have had time to say goodbye.

Little chunks of spiky ice burst and crystallized in the water below. Elsa touched her face lightly, and realized it was wet with tears. Another teardrop fell down her chin. Upon contact with the sea water, it spawned another frozen star.

Elsa sat back, curled into a ball, exhausted, and a little scared. She wrapped her cape around her like a translucent, silver security blanket, feeling the caress of the sea breeze stroking her hair. Like that of a kindly and understanding matron, the wind comforted her with its gentle touch.

"Excuse me?"

Elsa glanced to her left side, not lifting her head. From the corner of her eyes, she could see a young man and woman. The man was a bit on the scrawny side, and the lady besides him was clearly pregnant. They both smiled at her, slightly perplexed.

The man introduced himself with a faint, Swedish accent. "My name is Bernt, and this is Alexandra. I didn't think one of your station would be hanging around in here." His voice changed to a curious tone. "Is something the matter?"

Elsa wiped her face, and picked her head up. They looked at each with surprise, fear, and giddiness. "It's the Queen!" They hastily bowed. "Your Majesty!"

"Please," Elsa responded, wincing at the word. ""I'm no Queen. I don't deserve to be. Anna would have made a far improved candidate over me."

"What?" Alexandra asked. "Why?"

"I threw so many troubles at you from the very moment I was crowned. But then, I-I got scared, and ran away. I thought I did everyone a favor, by leaving from their sight. But then, I set an Eternal Winter on all of you!" Elsa hiccuped. "People are still angry, and they have every right to be! I almost ran away again! If there was ever a Queen that was lousy, it would be me!"

The couple looked at each other. "Your Majesty," the man began.

"Please, no..."

"Qu-... uh,  _Elsa_." Bernt amended. "I personally think you are very brave. You came back, after all."

"Stop that. I've done nothing but run away. For the past thirteen years, that was all that I have ever done, especially from my own sister."

He scratched his head. "Maybe you did get scared. But that's perfectly normal."

"You think?"

Alexandra answered, "Everyone makes bad choices when they are scared." She tilted her head, pensive. "For years, people have said that you are very cold. You couldn't care less about anyone, which is why the palace doors remained closed even after the K-... yeah." She knelt down so they were wet-eye-to-eye. "But I can see that you are nothing but a sweet, kind girl who's lucky to be younger than me. You ran away because you thought that was how you could help. You believed it was the best option." She shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe it was."

Elsa thought to herself. If she stayed on that fateful day, Elsa would have continued to stay locked behind the bedroom door. Anna would still have to live life without anyone besides servants, no friends, no loved ones, no sister. The only thing that would change would be Elsa's title. In a way, the mother-to-be was right. Still...

"B-but... I can't just keep my distance anymore, could I."

"No. I prefer the open gates, thank you very much. So... why did you run away that time?"

"It's... It's because I didn't want anyone to get hurt... To get Anna hurt..."

"Right. You love your sister and country so much, you'd never want to see them despair."

"But that just makes me weak, an awful person..."

"Please," Alexandra interrupted, stern. "You're the Queen of Arendelle, one who can make an ice rink form at the drop of a hat. If I have ever known a person any more powerful, I have never met them... besides my husband of course."

"Aw, thank you, sweet."

"And you aren't an awful person, Queen Elsa. You ran away out of love. If it truly was a bad decision," she leaned forward. "Learn from it. Pick yourself up and rise again."

_Don't run. Move forward._

The woman offered her hand.

"Won't I trouble your baby?"

She barked out a laugh. "Please, I need the exercise."

Elsa hesitantly took her hand, and was lifted to her feet with surprising ease. She patted herself down, feeling the expectant gazes of the young couple.

"So while we're on the subject of my pregnancy," Alexandra said, facing Elsa. She was even shorter than the monarch. "Would you, as my Queen, bless my baby?"

Elsa's mind didn't comprehend the last few words. What she heard was a garbled mess, as if she was a young toddler hearing people speak and hold conversations, without understanding the meaning behind the phrases. "E-excuse me?"

"Would you like," the pregnant woman enunciated, "to bless my baby?"

Elsa gasped in shock. "You're child." She looked at the bump. "I-I couldn't..."

"Don't deny her..." Bernt warned, but the woman caught up to Elsa first.

"No! You will not refuse! You are the Queen. If there's anyone who should bless my baby, it should be you!" She grabbed Elsa by the collar with both her hands. Her face was set and resolute. Despite Alexandra's small build, Elsa felt her high heels lift slightly from the ground. She briefly thought she could see a shadow of Anna's spirit and energy within the woman.

"Stop it!" Bernt protested. "You'll get arrested!" He was promptly ignored.

"B-but couldn't you find a priest? I still don't think I-I'm good enough," Elsa stammered.

"Are you joking?" Alexandra let go of Elsa softly and carefully. Her voice became tender. "I want the best for my kid, and my decision says  _you_  are the greatest choice."

Elsa looked down at her hands. Little snowflakes puffed out, and drifted away in the wind. She looked back at them. They gave her half-pleading looks. They trusted her with their child, their unborn baby.

"Okay..." Elsa sighed. She cannot just back out from their request, not anymore. She stuck her hand out tentatively, her gaze pointed away from the couple. Her fingers were a few inches away from the woman's stomach. She scrunched up her eyes, trying hard not to imagine herself freezing the mother. Her face paled in response to the resulting image, a statue of a smiling, pregnant Alexandra, making her lose what color she had left in her skin.

Elsa heard a sigh of exasperation, footsteps on the wood, and the woman covered the rest of the distance. Elsa's hand felt the warm fabric, a round shape, and-

The feeling was electric underneath Elsa's palm. She nearly pulled her hand back out of reflex. She could touch it. A little jolt in the woman's stomach.

The baby had kicked.

Alexandra smiled. "See? I can feel it too; the baby kicked for you! It is a very good judge of character, you know. If you were not good enough, it wouldn't have wanted to meet you that badly."

Elsa just stood like that forever, feeling for the baby's little kicks, and listening to the squawking of seagulls, the slapping of waves against boats. Bernt pulled at his collar nervously. Alexandra cleared her throat. Right. Elsa's eyes widened. She was supposed to bless the baby.

Until her coronation, Elsa had not attended church for years, and she quite frankly didn't worry about such topics until this very moment. She looked at Bernt a little desperately, silently asking him for advice. The man just shrugged, and said, "Anything will do for us."

After much thought, she found the answer within herself. "Excuse me..." Elsa said quietly. "I have never blessed anything before, but... here I go." She took a deep breath, the mother's stomach warm under her pale hand. She placed all of her focus on where her palm rested, until nothing else mattered.

"M-May you always be happy. May you never be shut out from others, may you never fear just because you're different..." She was feeling faint.  _Don't forget to breathe, silly._

Elsa's voice grew stronger. "You will have such a life ahead of you when you are born. There is despair, there is loneliness, fear, anger, stress, frustration, and there is pain. When you are in the world, you may feel that life is just so,  _so_ difficult, it seems hardly worth the trouble."

She thought of her extended family; Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven, all smiling happily and gamboling as they pelted each other with snowballs. "But you cannot just run away and escape from life. There is hope, happiness, and love. Not just the kind of love where you like someone, but True Love. When you are growing up, when you are learning how to live, always understand that you are never alone, wherever you are. In a home, in a city, out at sea, or even as far above in the mountains, there is someone who wants to be with you. That's the special thing about True Love; it's what makes life catch back up with you."

She thought of her mother and father, giving her assuring smiles before they left on a trip to another kingdom. "Your own parents will be there for you when they can, for every step of the way, because they love you. They love you enough to ask the Queen of Arendelle for her blessing. And when they can't..." Elsa swallowed. "You will realize that there are so many, many others who love you just as much, others who will always be happy to help you with any trouble." She was beginning to forget that she was supposed to speak to the pregnant mother, instead talking to herself.

"You will never shun yourself away from others, even if you or they are different, because you shouldn't. You should always strive to make yourself a better person for everyone, because you should.

"You will never lead the life I had, with a painful childhood filled with loneliness and regret. You will live happily for your entire life, surrounded by the people who truly love you, as I am living now."

Elsa's vision was incredibly blurry. She couldn't hold it in anymore; she needed someone like Anna. Elsa spread her arms open. Past her tears, the couple glanced at each other in shock.  _That?_ From the Queen?

She embraced both of them tightly before they finished processing the situation. They were mildly started, but decided to wrap their arms around her as well.

"Wow... Y-You're colder than we thought."

Elsa herself only felt the gentle heat of the two young people in her arms. After a minute, they slowly unwrapped themselves from each other.

Wiping away her tears, Elsa sniffed, smiling. "Thank you. You two made me feel a lot better about myself." Both father and mother-to-be swelled with pride. "Now, if you would excuse me, I have a mistake to fix."

They watched her as she walked back into town. Now that that she had been consoled, they could have sworn that they saw a little bounce in the Queen's high heels that clicked against the road pavement rhythmically. Bernt elbowed the pregnant Alexandra.

"You sure the baby's as good of a judge of character as you say?"

"Of course!"

"What about the time she kicked for your mother?"

"That was a month ago, the child didn't know anything back then!"

* * *

"Heeee!"

"Quiet, will you? If you keep squeaking like that, Elsa will hear you!"

"Sorry, sorry! It's just, I was so worried that Elsa will get hurt by others, that she would never want to leave the palace again." Anna's face scrunched up comically in fury. "But oh... That dastardly woman! I don't care that she's old, I'm going to feed her with her teeth the next time I see her..."

"That's... just a bit over the top, you know. And I'm pretty sure she can snap even  _me_ like a twig."

Anna made another mood swing, chipper once more. "She does remind one of old Oaken, doesn't she? HOO-hoo!" She imitated the finger-twiddling. "But now Elsa made some friends, everything is working out all right!" She spread her arms out to express her joy, and accidentally slapped poor Kristoff in the nose. "Oh, sorry, sorry! Is it bleeding?"

"Nah," Kristoff said, as he rubbed his nose. "I've suffered worse damage by squirrels..." Anna pouted at him. "I'm serious! Nasty, stupid, little twitchy things, hoarding all of the nuts; nothing that small is supposed to leave scars both physically and mentally..." He caught himself mid-ramble, and sighed. Anna grinned victoriously at him, happy to learn something new about him again.

"L-let's just get back on topic. I'm proud of Elsa too, you know that? Remember that it took me a week to greet anyone in a way that doesn't involve negotiations with ice? At least I had Sven by my side for all these years. And I  _still_  offer to shake hands with Elsa sometimes!"

"She shook hands anyway."

"That's not the point! The thing is, I'm glad Elsa is coming along very quickly."

"...You really care for her that much?"

"Hey, give yourself some credit. She's  _your_ sister. If anything happens to her, I'm going to have to answer to  _you_."

"And you love her ice sculptures."

"And her sculptures are  _gorgeous._ " Kristoff stopped before he began to shed a tear thinking about her ice palace, and cleared his throat. "Still, since you're my girlfriend and all, Elsa might as well be my sister."

Anna's voice became teasing, but slightly insecure. "I suppose it's nice to have a sibling that's human?"

"Yeah. But..." Kristoff kissed her on the forehead. "It's not as nice as someone who I can share my life with."

"Aw..." Anna could have snuggled herself against Kristoff's hard chest, but her eyes focused onto the bluish-white figure walking briskly downtown. "Wait, we're getting distracted. Elsa went that way!"

* * *

"Are you alright, Milady?" Arvid asked. Marketplace shoppers were giving curious glances at the Queen. She could still feel them, their attention, an invisible force, pressing against her skin.

_There is no reason to fear._

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, Captain Arvid."

"Are you sure you want to go back inside?"

"Of course, Captain." Elsa's lips tugged at the corners. "I have a cake to finish."

The man blinked at her, as if she sprouted a new head. Then, his mustache quivered, and moved with his mouth to form a warm smile. "Of course, Your Majesty." He sidestepped to open the restaurant door for her.

When she stepped into the restaurant, everyone inside immediately silenced themselves. Even the children hushed the second time around." They were unsure, and their focus made her near-white hair stand on their ends.

_Don't run._

"At ease, everyone. Do not let me bother your appetites." She saw the corner where she tried to hide in during lunch. Ice had spread out from the spiky lump of ice that was once her drink. The cake was, of course, left untouched. Elsa had the sneaking suspicion the restaurant workers had little idea what to do with their new pocket winter wonderland.

"Queen Elsa." A woman appeared before Elsa. Unlike the other restaurant worker, she was very well-dressed. "I-I am the owner of this property." She bowed hastily. "I hope one of my staff did little to offend you. If you say he had, I will have him removed from my restaurant immediately."

A man with the familiar razor chin at the edge of Elsa's perspective stiffened.

Elsa smiled. "None at all. It is my fault that I damaged your establishment. I would like to take a seat there to make amends."

"W-well of course. Would you like any additional orders?"

"Of course, I'm starving!"

In many ways, it was as if she never left. She still felt nervous. She is still painfully aware of all the faces and eyes that watched her with unease and awe. And, while the farmer woman had already left, she knew there were still people present who disapprove of her.

Running away is understandable, but it's not a permanent solution. She cared too much for the state of the kingdom. She loved her family and people too much. She would have to fix her mistakes at some point.

She surveyed the frost, wondering how she could make it up to the waiter. Perhaps a miniature ice castle for the young man. With all the time she tried to make up for with Anna, she ironically had little time to herself. Now, she had some new architectural ideas that she always wanted to test...

With new drive, she dug into her coffee cake. The faint ringing of the town bells signaled the new hour.

_I can afford to stay in this town for longer..._

* * *

A clang of a chime, pure and silver in tone, rang throughout the shadowed woods, initially as quiet as a distant bird song. The sweet little sound slowly grew louder as it bounced off of tree trunks, through whispering leaves, and over aged rock, until it became a deep, roaring fortissimo at the edge of the forest. Grand Pabbie, holding the staff out in front of him, winced.

The last ward... It's been shattered.

A mist, nearly as thick as flood waters, rushed between the thick trees and out of the haunted forest. The Grey Fog of Ravendall, famous for having travelers lost and swallowing innocents, sowing chaos and confusion everywhere. It splashed against Pabbie, like a lone rock standing against the constant onslaught of a raging river.

Pabbie merely fanned away at it, annoyed. One, slight benefit of being inhuman meant that he saw the Fog for what it was: a simple attack. Pabbie's psyche was left untouched.

He placed all of his resolves and hopes within the next words he spoke. "Reveal yourself demon!" He slammed the end of the staff to the ground. Golden light splashed from the contact, spreading amber rings outward that illuminated the mist. "You, who have denied yourself rest, and have lashed out against all who have come across you, stealing their lives and locking them away in the darkness that was your soul, COME FORTH!"

At first, nothing seemed to have happened. Pabbie's eyes darted back and forth, his large ears twitching to listen for any abnormal sounds.

Then, the Fog of Ravendall stopped moving. It hung in the air like a still portrait, silent, sullen, and unnatural. Even the trees stopped with their rustling. The Troll King tightened his grip on his staff, gathering even more will and resolution within the fixed crystals.

He could hear the sound of something breathing.

* * *

**I... don't know how to bless a baby. I'm sorry if I botched it awfully. I'm not a religious guy, so I just wrote a little something based on shonen manga that I've read, and the occasional random little speeches Mom would give with the least amount of tact. Thank you for being who you are, you crazy woman.**

**I know "Bernt" seems like an odd name, but can you imagine it used to be "Kevin?" I had to change to it to the former because I learned "Kevin" only grew popular outside of Ireland much, much later...**

**This won't be the end of Elsa's angst, you can count on that.**

**Oh, by the way, am I handling the angst well enough? I don't want to have a situation where Elsa just kind of stops being... Elsa. Do you get the picture, or no? Why don't you post a review about your opinion? I will appreciate whatever you say, and try to follow.**

**Seriously, I am worried. If I take all of this too over-the-top, then everything Elsa goes through will just become unsympathetic wangsting. Eugh.**

**Sadly, I don't think another chapter will come until the weekend comes again. As I have mentioned before, I've got midterms to worry about.**

**"Sigh"**

**See you guys soon (hopefully), fans of _Frozen._**


	5. I Won't Be Alone

**Feh. 8700+ words. And the worst part is, this was supposed to be half a chapter! I was supposed to showcase some smexy action scenes with not-so-smexy characters by now!**

**Ah well, c'est la vie. I'll get to that eventually.**

**Meanwhile, have you seen "Let it Go" in multilanguage? It's "bleep"-ping beautiful. I swear, the parts where Elsa goes into Japanese, Mandarin, Serbian, and **Québécois possess**** **a direct line to my pleasure centers.**

**Actually, all of the languages have a direct line. Enjoy the ride!**

* * *

Chapter 5

I Won't Be Alone

* * *

"Queen Elsa!"

"Your Majesty! Please meet my husband!"

"Milady, you look beautiful this afternoon!"

Elsa raised her hand to acknowledge the civilians clamoring for her attention. She was feeling more and more overwhelmed. The news of Elsa having blessed a pregnant mother spread like wildfire, reaching from one end of Arendelle to the other. Hopefuls demanded that she meets them, that she say a few words.

Elsa initially complied with the civilians' requests, enjoying the fact that they don't seem to hate her anymore. She would greet herself to young children, smile and wave, spreading wisps of snow here and there, and create miniature models of random civilians. It was as if the entire kingdom had come to see her, to touch her, to feel her regal presence.

She wanted to feel appreciated by their desire for her... but she was losing both heart and spirit. Her words became clipped, her smile tortured her pale cheeks, and her ice became rush jobs. Upon the nineteenth person to ask her for a model made of frost, it took all of her discipline to prevent herself from just snapping at the girl. To make matters worse, she desperately wanted to shout and demand solitude.

_Maybe if she made an ice castle to hide in..._

_A Queen shouldn't be wanting to run away from her own people._

Ugly thoughts. Elsa grimaced. The crowd was really taking its toll on her. She needed a break.

"Captain Arvid," she yelled above the noisy men and women. "I-I need someplace to escape!"

The large uniformed man easily pushed his way through the swarm of people, until he was the one closest to the queen, and bowed. "Of course, Queen Elsa. May I suggest the bookstore?"

Elsa raised her eyebrows in curiosity. She was not even aware that there are shops that sold  _only_  books.

Thirteen years of hiding will do that to you.

"Is it quiet?"

The man grinned through his mustache, and nodded.

"Captain, guide me there!"

The Guard saluted, clicking his leather heels together, and used his incredibly stocky arms to his advantage, splitting the horde and moving along like an expert swimmer. He created a large gap behind him that tapered to an end; Elsa could walk in it, without being swept aside by admiring people.

Despite her duty to connect with the public, Elsa was truly glad she had someone like Captain Arvid to separate them from her whenever she needed it. They reached a rustic, two-story building with ease, and the Captain opened the entrance door to usher her in. Elsa took a tentative look inside, and hugged Arvid out of appreciation. The Guard's eyebrows shot up into the brim of his hat, his expression priceless.

Dlsa hurried into the doorway, and heard it shut close behind her, as well as the barks of orders the Guard shouted to the disappointed masses.

Elsa gazed around the store in sheer awe. The smell of musty paper hung in the air, and the establishment was gently lit by curtained windows and hanging lamps, creating an ambient, deeply golden glow. There was hardly a sound besides the scratching noises of a pen. The disruptive scraping of a chair, caused by the shopkeeper rushing to bow, broke the silence, but only momentarily. Besides that, there was only one other person, and he paid no attention to her at all. There was no talking, no shouting, no clamoring, and no demands.

It was peaceful.

The shop was comfortably decorated with furnishings and rugs, almost like a library repurposed into a home. Elsa's palace had its own private library, of course, but the writings were old, aged, practical, and dull. In the castle's library, the books packed with files on trade agreements and tax revenue would be severely juxtaposed by stories devoted to entertain children, a side-effect of the Closed Gates. Elsa herself had nothing else to do during that period. So, for thirteen long years, most of the texts at home have been already devoured.

Here, there were shelves that were neatly arranged and sorted, adorned with books of all sizes, vibrant colors, and thickness. However, the impressive factor for Elsa was that everything stacked on these wooden shelves was fresh content.

For the first time in forever, nobody called her queen. Elsa was now a child again. Not a little girl filled with regret and pain, but one who hopped with enthusiasm and curiosity for the world around her. Her icy heels made softened thuds over the carpets as she brushed her fingers along binding after binding of published works. She paced from one end of the building to the other, fretting for a split second over all of the choices presented to her, her mouth stretching into a giddy smile.

Elsa came to a conclusion; she should just start with one from every genre.

She walked over to a shelf, and closed her eyes with one hand, as a young child would, before reaching out towards it. Her fingers latched onto a paperback, and she pulled the novel out. Not even bothering to read the title, she flipped the book open and skimmed through.

Until now, she had never read a novel that was amazing as this one, for it was completely unique to her. She laughed at one punch line for its fresh unfamiliarity, then sobered immediately in the next page, feeling empathy for the revolutionary separating from his children. She flipped several more pages to stop on a passage, and read down the paragraphs. However, before she finished, she snapped the book closed, blushing furiously.

It was a romance novel, of course.

Her eyes darted left and right, even though there were only the two people inside who were not even within proximity of her, and she tucked the book underneath her arms for further reading.

_What are you, a little girl?_

She continued the same process at the next shelf, and the one after that, again and again, wondering why she couldn't have just spent her entire time here instead of a crowded restaurant.

Because  _you will starve otherwise, and Anna will have a new reason to fuss over you_.

Elsa put the book she was reading down, her joy dampened. She was still annoyed with her sister for not coming with her to help.

_Anna, who has done nothing but forgive her sister for all of the years of pain she had dumped on her_.

She exhaled slowly. All she needs is just more literature.

* * *

As Elsa skimmed over a new book, this one about the life in the far-off world of America, the lone patron walked by and stopped next to her, perhaps a little uncomfortably close. Elsa's heart jumped in response out of the invasion of privacy. Her eyes twitched, her shoulders slightly raised, she was very unnerved by him. She could smell him, not necessarily an awful odor, but it was quite powerful. Elsa snuck a peek at him, seeing a pair of glasses, and the color of grass. Elsa swallowed, and looked away.

He was doing the same thing. The man reached over to grab two books, one on each hand.

Now, Elsa wasn't exactly too sure what this man was up to. He made a big show of trying to decide which one to take with him, lifting one up to scrutinize it, before switching to the other, clearing his throat. If Elsa had knew any better, she would have suspected he was trying to grab her attention, and initiate a conversation. The fact that he seemed to have read the left book's summary four times over by then was not helping matters. After two, uncomfortable minutes, the man was wearing down Elsa's welcome.

_Go away, please. You are too annoying._

Not that Elsa ever said that.

_That's because you are too much of a coward._

No, that's because it's common courtesy.

Elsa shook her head, irritated. She sorely wished that Anna had been here. Anna, her sister, who would gladly tell this stranger to shove off and be done with it.

_Anna, who left her at the gates for her to hang helplessly in this Royal Visit. Anna, who sacrificed so much for her weak sister even though Elsa deserved nothing. Anna, who had the terrible luck to have such an awful sibling who nearly killed her._

She heard a deep sigh, and shot another glance. The man, disappointment weighing his ashy brows, placed the books back onto the shelf.

Something snapped within the young woman. She was just so upset with herself, she just knew that the man had absolutely no justifiable reason to be angry at  _her. That's his fault for trying!_

"What's your problem?" Elsa blurted, years of discipline flying straight through the curtained windows. "You were being too obvious, trying to get me to talk to a man like you!"

The man snapped back angrily. "Then why weren't you the one to at least tell me to go away!? The way you behaved, I would have thought you were mute!" They glared and fumed at each other. A part of Elsa's brain idly noticed that he was only a hair over Elsa's height, and he was nowhere near handsome. The only things remotely bright were his grass-green eyes. Everything else about him had either grayed or withered with age, such as his ragged coat, a beard that was simultaneously too long and too thin to have been tended to in ages, and his relatively frail figure.

This is getting nowhere.

The man sighed, and gave a stiff bow. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, especially to a young lady as beautiful as yourself."

Elsa flushed at this sudden comment, and raised her hands to her mouth, her dark eyebrows curled in horror. She just shouted at an elderly man, for crying out loud.

_Stupid, stupid Elsa. Those novels have gone completely into your head._

"I-I'm sorry too," Elsa stammered. "I didn't mean to shout at you like that. I-I'm not good at socializing, I'm afraid."

"Well, that makes two."

Elsa crossed her arms, perplexed. "So, why didn't you say anything?"

The man flatly noted, "Not a lot of people enter bookshops, believe it or not."

"How is that important?"

The man opened his mouth to say something, but he held himself back. The words seemed to have physically lodged itself in his throat. He averted his eyes, and muttered something unintelligible.

"Excuse me?"

"I-I..." He sighed. He just stood there, his old and gangly body remaining completely rigid and motionless.

Elsa raised an eyebrow suspiciously, wondering why she didn't just leave him then and there. He was pathetic. He was rather pitiful. He was awkward. He was fearful of contact and intimacy, even though he just expressed desire for both a couple of minutes ago.

Strip away the gender, the status, the age, and the stature, and he was what Elsa saw in her bedroom mirror every morning.

He caught onto her train of thought. "It's okay if you leave." He chuckled sadly. "I'm just going to stay here until this misery passes." He peeked out of the window, watching pedestrians walk by, doing their everyday business. "You should be lucky."

Elsa blinked.

"I'm not from this town, and yet I can tell who you are, just from that shiny dress and hair of yours." Elsa covered her braid instinctively. "Rumors spread widely. You are Queen Elsa. You have to go to meetings? Balls? Public gatherings?"

"Please…" the woman winced. "I'm no queen. It's just Elsa."

"You do not know just how lucky you are," the older man continued. He had his eyes focused to the left of Elsa, but never directly at her face. "You are given so many opportunities, well, forced to, honestly, in order talk to others." He jabbed a thumb at the window. "I saw you with all of those people earlier, you know."

Elsa's ears heard the faint echoes of the multitude of people that she left behind only recently.

"Didn't know what they were talking about. Didn't really care myself. But, I would have switched places with you in a heartbeat."

"Why?"

"Because..." He inhaled slowly. "I'm lousy. Never really talked to anyone outside my family, since I never had to." Elsa nodded. "I... I can't say more, especially to a stranger like you."

Elsa was genuinely curious about this man. She wanted to know more, to understand why he was so easy to empathize with. "Can you at least say your name?"

The man just pursed his lips, not looking directly at her.

He truly is a painfully shy person. Elsa knew that he won't talk. If she were him, she wouldn't have either, without a bargain. Perhaps... she had an idea.

Her stomach lurched a little when she made the proposal. "You tell me your side of the story, and... I-I'll tell you mine." She felt unusually exposed in this situation, despite the solace the bookstore had been providing her the whole time earlier. "Deal?"

The man's eyes widened in surprise at the offer. "I suppose I owe you a name: It's Frode.

"And deal," he agreed. "But only if you go first."

Elsa blinked twice, realizing she placed herself into an uncomfortable situation. Still, she complied, albeit timidly. "So... Um..."

_How do I start?_  She closed her eyes, and thought of two little girls.

_You don't have to do this, you know._

_It is what I deserve._

Remembering the past was painful for Elsa. It meant having to face the inner demons that haunted her for years on end, bringing with them fear of her powers, which occasionally broke free as sudden drops of temperature. Frode had to remind her at times that ice was starting to coat the books. As she relived thirteen years of sadness and second thoughts, she explained that each day plagued her with futility and despair, until she learned her love and desire to protect her sister was the solution to controlling the ice.

She told of how she was raised to become Queen at a young age, how she initially looked forward to become the leader of an entire country! Then, Elsa explained how she nearly killed her sister at the age of eight, and how she dreaded having to face her people ever since. Elsa recounted the events of the Eternal Winter, about how her fears eventually got the better of her, why she threw away her duties as Arendelle's ruler as a result.

It was only after she froze her sister's heart that she began the road to recovery.

"-All those years, all those chances that I could have taken to open the door for Anna... I squandered them. Even so, I'm still afraid of what everyone think will of me, still worried that they will reject me for my powers and mistakes. Even today, I've been nothing but a sad excuse for a queen."

Frode's curiosity sparked in his eyes. "Can you control your powers now?"

Elsa tilted her head at him, and decided a little show would be necessary. She needed a break from this weight in her heart, anyway.

As she lifted her arms, she noticed that they were quaking severely. Without Anna around, she didn't know if she could manage her powers easily within this building. She feared she would lose restraint, her ice destroying this little haven tucked away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

_Think of Anna_. Her mind flashed back to the dressing mirror earlier that day, of her sister hugging her from behind. Anna's soothing voice repeated itself in the platinum blonde's ears. She then thought of Kristoff, who would go into a weepy mess every time Elsa made an ice sculpture, then of Olaf's joyful grin, and then even Sven. They loved her, powers included. They always told her they wouldn't want anyone else as a family member for the world.

_That would have to do._

Elsa waved a hand dramatically, sending a chill wind, illuminated by magic snow, down the aisles. It twinkled in the candle lights, and brushed past rows of books on display, turning covers and pages audibly.

She sucked in a short breath, pulling her hand back rapidly, and looked at the receptionist's desk. The shopkeeper did not pay a single bit of attention.

Elsa looked back at Frode, and waved her other hand, creating a miniature cyclone of white powder. It snuffed out nearby candles, painting a section of the store white with its luminosity. Elsa wasn't finished yet; she twirled around, guiding the free-flying snow towards herself. Silently, it surrounded her, forming a silver ring that spun rapidly, until it appeared to be a solid white. The ring widened into a thick veil, forming a swirling column that connected the ceiling to the floor, blocking Elsa's sight from the world outside.

Finally, she raised her hands, calling the snow into the small space between them. It swirled from multiple directions, like streamers spinning around a pole, compacting into a single snowball. She released her powers, and let the snowball fall unceremoniously onto the ground, now a simple mess that melted into the carpet.

The wizened man sucked in a deep breath, staring at the pile of disappearing snow. "Amazing. After thirty years, I thought I'd seen it all…"

He noticed the young woman's patient eyes at him. "I-I suppose it is my turn, then."

He scratched his head, sifting through decades of memories. "I had to leave my family," he said, quietly. "My parents were simple cabbage farmers. I never explored anywhere. Never had to. Cabbage farming doesn't require a lot of travel, you know? I mean, sure, they were deliciously sweet, better than any other vegetable, especially in the cold North! But, still. A cabbage is still a cabbage.

"Books were my only escape. They were a door to another world, one that was not limited by fences and dirt.

"Of course, my father expressed little desire for me to have life outside the farm. 'It's better to be safe in your home, doing what you know best,' he would always say. You following me?" Elsa nodded at him. "After a... heated discussion with dad... I-I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my novels, some vegetables from the farmlands, and... I ran. I ran away without ever looking back. That was the last time I had ever seen my parents."

_I'm never going back, the past is in the past..._

"I was ready to go out, seek my own fortunes." He stood up from his chair, alarming Elsa. "Let me tell you, the first few days were amazing!" He was gesturing with his hands in front of him, his voice gaining speed and confidence, finally comfortable with company around. Elsa was beginning to think that he was absorbed into his own world for the moment. "I visited towns and kingdoms, saw beautiful sights and beautiful people! No longer did I have to toil in an oversized garden, no longer did I have to listen to my parents! I was guided by books filled with adventure, filled with life! They tell of great things that came unexpectedly, things that caught the heroes' by surprise, flipped their lives upside down, awakened their talents, turned their miserable pasts into a future full of fortune and fulfillment!"

He was swinging his arms wildly now, and jumped boldly on tables to make his point. "I have traveled far and wide, through all four corners of Norway! I saw everything, read about ever- Woah, woah!"

In a manner reminiscent of clumsy Anna, he fell with clatter to the carpeted floor, spilling books and chairs everywhere. Elsa, terrified, peeked over the debris to make sure he's alright.

A spindly arm poked out from the mess, index finger pointed skywards, full of energy. " And here I was," he shouted as he clumsily crawled out, like a draugr rising from the deep. "Ready to accept the opportunity to become the hero of my own story!"

Elsa covered her face to hide a smile, but quickly lost the need to. Frode's eyes shadowed with strife. "I never got that shot. Look at me, I was never impressive. I have no useful skills, no money, no apparent reason for people to want to meet me. I just know how to dig cabbages. I went on, from town to town, hoping for that one spark, like a rich man paying attention to me as I worked with talents that I 'clearly' possessed, or bumping into a lady who loved me for who I was, to give me money, a family, a meaning to my life..." He gestured towards himself with his thin hands. "It's been three years of bidding for a dream to come; it's been twenty-seven years afterward of giving up. I'm an older man now. I have no wife, no permanent job, no family, nothing." He snorted, and gave one of the books a derisive look. "I wasn't the hero of my story. I was a vagrant."

Elsa wondered about what he said earlier. "Why did you give up?"

Frode looked even more frail behind his spectacles, his bright eyes worn and dried now. "The shame caught onto me when I saw a young man, my age and similar in build at the time, chasing a noble, or banker, somebody rich, as if his life depended on it. He had the drive and courage to pursue success, and all I did was wait for it to come to me. It hit me that… that I was such an incredible fool!"

He slumped onto a chair. "I can no longer talk to others, because I can't think of anything besides how fruitless it will be. I became scared. 'It would've been better if I didn't talk to them,' I started to reason. 'After all, nobody wants to meet a wayward son of a cabbage farmer.'" His voice began to waver, and he wiped a thumb across his eyes. He was starting to lose control of himself. "I can't even go back to my true family anymore, because of my fear and naivety..."

Elsa remained seated, looking at him in a new light. This man had lived alone, choosing a path that he never shifted from, until the years of denial and regret had practically destroyed him.

Just like how the past she could have changed nearly destroyed her as well.

"I can only hope to surround myself in books to escape the painful reality. What once became a pastime to escape to another world became a prison that I'm too afraid to leave from.

"That's why I would have wanted to be you... With your powers and high status." He tried his best to smile, but it was a weak effort. "But I guess the grass is always greener on the other side."

They remained silent, not really sure what to say next.

Elsa thought of Alexandra and Bernt, the young couple who were the first to connect with her since Anna and Kristoff.

"Learn from your mistakes," Elsa whispered, almost unconsciously.

"Hm?"

"Oh, um… A kind mother told me earlier that if I didn't like how a solution turned out, I should fix it."

Frode showed his teeth humorlessly. "Even one that is thirty years old?"

"I suppose you aren't too old to change?"

The aged man gave her words some consideration. "...I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Elsa giggled. "Yes. I think that's a start. For the both of us."

Frode grinned, this time genuine. "It's nice knowing that I'm not the only one who has social issues. I was beginning to think that I was by myself, until I saw you."

Elsa voice softened. "Me too." She looked at a nearby clock. There was still time before she was required to return to the palace.

"Say…"

"Hm?"

"You seem to know your books. Which of these novels do you think are the best?"

* * *

The two newfound companions were complete physical opposites to each other, and yet they paid no heed to such a minor detail, instead talking for an entire hour about books and adventures. Elsa discovered that, while he was a man without a permanent job, he did accrue many artistic skills over the years. He showed her detailed sketches of small rodents, pulled out beautiful woodcuts from his bag, and possessed an exotic collection of pressed flowers in a large book.

One of his talents, however, he kept hidden underneath a pile of books. As he was talking about dealing with squirrels (nasty, twitchy little things, he remarked), She saw a handwriting peeking out, along with an uncapped pen.

"What is that?"

"Oh, this! I-it's nothing, really. Just... something silly that I do all of the time."

"Let me see it!" Frode moved backwards, looking somewhat defensive, guiltily so. Elsa was losing his patience with this man once more. Still, she allowed herself room to partially joke. "As Queen of Arendelle, and a friend, I command you!"

He looked at her, sighed, and pulled out a few sheets of paper. They were covered with a script that could have only belonged to Frode. Elsa looked through the sheets. They were very much the same stories that Frode had been telling her. She suddenly understood the implications.

"You wanted to become a writer?"

"Well... yes. I always wished to be one, ever since I was a child. But... you know about my father."

Elsa reached over to lay a hand on his arm.

_But... this man isn't a family member._  She was slightly hesitant, and her fingers twitched more than Elsa would have liked. An image briefly flashed, showed a thin and frail-looking Frode, completely blue and frozen, his green eyes turned into icy white orbs, distracting her, encouraging her to pull away.

Bad thoughts. He needs assurance now. She pushed through, and touched him without any trouble. "There's no use in worrying about the past," she said, firmly as she could. "You could only look ahead now." She read another passage in the script she held. "It's beautiful."

Frode turned his head to her. "Thanks. For everything. You know, you were the first real friend I've had in years."

Elsa's lips widened into a warm smile. "I really appreciate that. Will you be leaving soon?"

"I don't know. I suppose when I have enough of this town, I'll go elsewhere." He grinned lopsidedly at her. "That's just the life that I've made for myself."

Elsa looked away, thinking quietly. She wasn't focused on anything, but she was lost in thought. An idea presented itself to her. "You read a lot of books?"

"Yes..."

"And you write stories about your exploration of Norway? Including here, this very kingdom?" Elsa suddenly felt very sneaky.  _If Anna was here, she'd be so proud..._

"What are you up to..."

"Arendelle's in need of good writers." Her memory flashed back to the passages in the history books back home. "Norway has only recently come from Four Hundred Years of Darkness, where Danish literature had been all that have occupied these shelves. We have visitors from all over the world to come here, and it would please me to have a famous bestseller in this kingdom showcasing the pride of Norway," she explained, as she raised her head slightly. "Especially Arendelle in particular." She pointed a long finger at the Frode, who was now rather confused.

"However, the people here are far too busy to pay attention to anything outside of their concern, even if you decided to sew this writing," she shook the sheets in her hand gently, "into your clothes, and walk out in open daylight."

She tried best to appear haughty, looking down her nose at him. He needed to understand the message. "A drifter such as you cannot expect help to come unless he truly wish to chance his luck. Otherwise, he would have to find the right man, and shake him until he starts listening."

He stared at her, meeting eye-to-eye, betrayal marring his face.

"Normally, I would do my best to help you, but I see you are too shy and afraid to seek assistance yourself." Elsa turns around to leave. "Good-bye, Frode." She walked slowly and deliberately, making sure her high heels of ice clacked against the floor noisily. She only took a step with every slow beating of her heart.

Frode was clearly talented enough, he just needs to understand it himself. If he truly wanted to improve, he would get the hint before she could shut the door on him.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you leaving so suddenly? I thought... I-I thought was finally able to get along with someone!"

She's already at the exit. She sighed quietly to herself.  _Maybe I was too harsh on him…_

She was prepared to turn around. She wanted to apologize to Frode, hoping that he could excuse this sudden extreme treatment and remain friends again. But... something kept her moving forward. Frode, like Elsa, must understand that only he can change his own course, because she believed he can. Her hand was turning the doorknob-

"Wait!"

Elsa turned her head and eyes slightly, so she saw Frode at her peripheral. A sly grin nearly overtook her features.

"You lying, manipulative,  _wonderful_ girl." He bowed awkwardly. "As a mere vagrant, I ask you..." He gulped, "to tell me of a publishing company nearby."

Elsa finally beamed at him, pleased, and spoke in a regal manner. "I have no idea, for I have not reviewed over Arendelle's existing businesses as of yet."

"Oh…" His face crestfallen, his shoulders slinked, he was prepared to walk away, disappointed with his life once more.

"But as a friend, I do know that the owner of this store had to get his books from  _somewhere_."

He glanced to the shopkeeper, who had remained silent the entire time. Never had he once looked up from his own notes.

"But, I don't want to trouble him."

"You've came to trouble me; look how that turned out. Besides," she added, "you are only doing this because it is necessary. When it isn't, you are free to find solace, like I had with this amazing place." She waved her arms around, taking in the grandeur of the bookstore once more.

Frode gave a subdued leap of joy, his graying beard moving along with him, and clasped onto both of Elsa's pale hands, his green eyes shining with more hope than she ever saw him. "Thank You!" As he expressed his gratitude, his face lost much of its forlorn qualities.

He kissed her hands, but recoiled a second after. "Ah! Cold, cold!" Elsa was slightly uneasy, but he pulled back and laughed. "People still terrify me, but I don't think I'll leave this town anytime soon, thanks to you!" He waggled his eyebrows. "I'll give you a sneak peek when I'm finished. First look!"

Elsa hugged him. She didn't smell anything that had bothered her before, only feeling the warmth that he emanated from his body. "That sounds lovely. I suppose I can hope to see you in this bookstore in another day?"

He patted her on the back. "Of course. I look forward to the next time you come! Please, come soon!" He turned around, elated, to face the shopkeeper. "Excuse me! Sorry for interrupting you, sir..."

Elsa closed the wooden door, not needing to see more. She nodded towards the ever-dutiful Captain Arvid, just barely preventing herself from letting loose her own squeal of excitement.

Anna would indeed be so proud of her, because...

_...I made a new friend by myself!_

* * *

The sun was setting low on the harbor by the time Elsa finally returned from her Royal Visit. There were much less people on the streets now, for they have returned home to eat dinner.

The Snow Queen herself took her time to enjoy the sun setting on her kingdom, its blazing colors splashing over the water and homes. The entire fjord was painted in radiant hues of orange, gold, pink, and red, a stark contrast to the lithe, blue-white figure observing it.

Elsa's stomach growled noisily, and her cheeks became much less white. She quickly darted her eyes around, and decided to stop by the bakery before she caved in to starvation.

Initially, she planned on buying a chocolate pastry, an absolute certainty for deliciousness, to celebrate the success (or at least survival) of her trip. But, as she looked at the wide selection of mouthwatering treats, with the tarts glistening with sugar, the sumptuous-looking cakes, and rows and rows of decorated truffles...

Who was she kidding! In high spirits, now that the long, fruitful day was over, Elsa decided that she might as well go full out. In a move that caused the baker's left eye to twitch with disbelief, she brought nearly all of the sweets in the desert section, planning to share with everyone back home. She even purchased some small carrot cakes for Kristoff and Sven to share, if reindeers could eat such things.

Arvid tried to deny Elsa any bags to carry, as he attempted to secure a grip onto every dessert item. Elsa had to insist gently that she should at least assist, lest Arvid should comically drop everything into a mess. He was reluctant to give her a small bag of chocolate chip croissants.

For the first time in a while, she found herself facing the opposite direction of the palace gates, a welcoming sign instead of a prison wall. Elsa smiled, for she was finally home.

The Queen and the Captain were surprised to see Elsa's entire family, Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven, waiting for her in the courtyard. Anna grinned at her older sister, but waved shyly.

"Um... Hey! So, how was your trip?"

"It was wonderful," Elsa laughed. She was being honest. She had her troubles, especially when so many people became too overbearing, but she had also gained some confidence within herself, and advice from a wide variety of good-hearted individuals.

Still though, she was constantly perplexed by a single detail the entire day, and decided to address it directly. Her dark eyebrows drew closer, and she scrutinized Anna. "Kristoff leaving for his own business, I can understand. But, I don't comprehend why you had to leave, too."

In no relation to Elsa's powers, everyone froze to their spots. Anna, bless her honest soul, started to go rigid, and clammed up. She's onto something, Elsa just knew it.

"Anna..."

The cornered redhead bit her bottom lip, and she looked at Kristoff desperately.

"What are you hiding from me?"

Kristoff muttered, waving his arms up, "That's it. I'm out of here. I like ice, but I do not want to spend the rest of the night wearing blocks for slippers."

Anna gaped at him in shock. "But you agreed first!"

"Alright, you got me there." He turned and breathed deeply, ready to explain. At Elsa's peripheral vision, she could see that Captain Arvid was stepping away, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

"Quiet, Kristoff. I want Anna to explain these events..."

Kristoff blinked, unsure of whether or not he was out of the frying pan just yet, but he stayed put. "Yes, your royalty! No, I-I mean Your Highness! Wait! Queen Elsa? Just Elsa? Augh!" He slapped himself in the forehead.

_He truly is Anna's boyfriend_ , Elsa thought, but she did not permit herself to laugh. Instead, she waved a hand behind her back, so a small flurry began spinning around the Queen and her captives, which increasingly thickened until it became a fully-fledged snowstorm. Anna and Kristoff looked around in alarm. Only Olaf and Sven was not concerned.

"Alright. Elsa, Elsa," Olaf said, holding his hands out in front of him. "I know you are upset to see Anna again- No, happy? I mean, you are always happy to see Anna, and yet I'm pretty sure you're mad because of what we did; this blizzard surely means something, I just can't put a finger on it-"

A burst of wind struck the little snowman, carrying Olaf's head upwards, and leaving it flying above its poor body.

"Hey Kristoff, I don't know if you can tell, but I'm pretty sure I'm taller than you right now!" Everyone else watched it jabber, nonplussed.

Elsa, without icicles of course, took a stab into the confusion. "I knew what you guys were up to while my back was turned." Both Kristoff and Anna, who huddled against Sven's fur for safety, looked first at each other, then at Elsa in astonishment.

Anna was the first to crack. "Elsa, I'm s-sorry for not telling you earlier, bu-"

"You two went off to elope didn't you!"

The blinding snow lost its wind power, and settled itself harmlessly on the ground. Everyone else just stood there, stunned. Anna and Kristoff sputtered, Olaf gasped, and Sven gave out an unusual, punctuated braying sound that could have been laughter.

Olaf's head fell onto the ground, but he didn't pay attention. He was latched onto something more interesting. "Anna, you didn't tell me you were actually going to marry today! I could have brought flowers!"

"N-no! I didn't!"

Elsa covered her mouth as she giggled, and Anna realized what had just occurred. The little sister began to fume, her face now matching her strawberry blonde hair, like an overgrown tomato. "Elsa! You... you-you..." She balled her hands into fists, and marched up to the queen, her chin jutting as outward as she could manage. She raised her hands, and beat them upon Elsa's chest repeatedly.

They had no strength behind, other than childlike anger, but Elsa's heart broke a little. "You big meanie! You scared me so badly, that's just awful of you!"

_Great job, you idiot. You took that joke too far, and now you've gone and made your sister mad at you._

A minute passed, punctuated by the sound of Anna's taps. Then, she hugged Elsa, silent. All was forgiven. Olaf's body went in for the hug as well. It reached out its stick of an arm inviting to accept more.

Kristoff, who was just standing there and watching the entire drama unfold, realized that the royal sisters were safe with, and from, each other again. He plucked the happy-go-lucky snowman's head out of the ground, replaced it on its rightful spot, and wrapped his long arms around the group as well.

"Still though, why did you guys leave me?" Elsa asked, mid-embrace.

Anna untangled herself from the bunch. "Oh, Elsa! I wanted to tell you so badly! but we couldn't, and we know that we should, but still, maybe it would've helped if we didn't? I didn't know myself, so-"

"We were asked by a troll." Kristoff explained laconically.

Elsa blinked. "Okay," she flicked her wrist, index finger outward at him. "That was a pretty lousy excuse."

"N-no, I'm serious! Remember when I told you I'm raised by them?"

"Well, yes, but it is pretty incredible to believe..." Elsa, unlike Anna, had not seen a troll since she was still eight years old.

Kristoff looked at the setting sun, which shined the last of its radiance at the clouds above as it dove into the sea. "It's almost night. Helge should be up soon; he can explain everything."

Elsa tilted her head at the young man. "Helge?"

* * *

Elsa stopped herself before the royal stables, watching Anna pat her horse Chestnut hello. She had passed this place by several times, often to greet Sven and give the occasional treat, but never had she actually stopped and entered.

Among other issues thirteen years of locking herself away did, she forgot how to ride a horse. She hardly had any memories of being on horseback anymore. The last time was...

Elsa saw a streak of Anna's hair change. Then, even more strips of hair followed suit, until Anna's fiery red hair became a cold, deathly white. The loss of color spread to her summer dress, and even Anna's skin bleached rapidly. Soon, all she saw was an ice statu-

Elsa closed her eyes. Memories. They're just memories. Anna is safe, and Elsa is happy. She has no reason to shun anyone away. She is perfectly fine... right?

_Sure._

Kristoff and Anna stood in front of Elsa, where Sven's stable was located. The two were hiding something behind them.

Elsa raised a dark eyebrow; no offense to the horses, but the smell was getting to her. "Well?"

Kristoff announced as he sidestepped, "Meet one of my many stepbrothers, Helge!"

It's a plain old moss-covered rock. Elsa crossed her arms at them, and pulled her mouth to one side. She was not amused.

Anna sighed in exasperation. "Helge, wake up! Get up! I'm still annoyed at you!" She kicked it lightly with her foot, but stumbled and fell to the ground. Kristoff knelt down to comfort his girlfriend, who was beginning to speak indecipherable obscenities, while Elsa watched in shock as the rock stood up on stubby legs. It brushed hay off of itself, and bowed at her, it's moss cape and tunic swishing.

"It's you..." It had the features most trolls sported; short stature, a tangled mess of hair, bulbous nose, wide ears, and rocky skin.

"Your Majesty, I am humbled to be in your prese-"

"You were one the trolls who planted the idea to have me locked away for good!" Elsa suddenly screeched.

Perhaps because, at some point in the past thirteen years, Elsa was beginning to resent her life, even more than usual. It's a teenage thing. And, to be fair, it lasted only a few weeks or so. It's a wonder how Elsa eventually managed, or she would have set her palace into a miniature ice age years ago.

During that particular, special time, as well as upsetting the King and Queen, developing a distaste for obvious displays of freedom, and turning food cold too quickly, she began blaming trolls for her misfortune. That livid Elsa came forth from the Ice Queen, like an ugly monster rearing its head, and rising from within her internal darkness. She hated the little stone creature, angry at it for removing Anna's memories of magic, angry for telling her and her parents to control her powers.

She shot a blast of magic beneath it, and icicle spikes lifted the creature well above the ground. Anna and Kristoff yelped in horror, blabbering objections that did not quite reach the Queen's ears.

Elsa was expecting the troll to be afraid for its life. She was stunned instead when the troll nodded, and said to himself, "Good, good. Her spirit has improved."

Helge's eyes widened, and he focused onto her, his eyes genuinely repenting. "In advance of Grand Pabbie, the Troll King, as one of his protégés, I apologize for the tragedy we trolls had befallen upon you and the Royal Family for years."

Elsa continued to stare hard at him. The air was frigid, and the breaths of everyone inside the stables came out as thick steam. A few of the horses nearby whinnied nervously.

"Despite all of the help we have given, all of our advice, we are not perfect," Helge explained. "We're very well learned on love and happiness, hence the title of 'love experts.' We trolls are ill equipped for everything else in human nature, unfortunately. Grand Pabbie was the wisest, but he is not the perfect guide; none of us were good enough to assist your condition." He bowed his head with shame and self-disappointment. "We made the same mistake many nights before with Anna, when she was suffering a frozen heart. We cannot forgive ourselves for these egregious errors. We were just not human enough to consider the ramifications."

_Not human... enough?_

"Now please, place me down." An edge of panic began to creep into Helge's voice, and he wiggled his thick toes frantically. "I feel much, much better if my feet are at least touching the floor."

Elsa lowered her arms, evaporating the spikes, and covered her mouth in shock. In her rage, she had nearly hurt somebody again, when she promised herself that would never happen. The implications of her actions mollified her. "I-it's okay," she stuttered weakly. "It is all my fault, I-I thought I had my temper under control."

"Not at all," Helge said lightly, waving a hand at her. "I see no need for an apology; that is just another reason why you people are so gifted."

Elsa looked at Kristoff, who knew trolls best, having been raised by them and all. If there were any stories he told that the queen doubted, she doubted them no longer. The mountain man shrugged. "They're a pretty upbeat bunch, the way I figured it. Not the type to hold grudges and such."

* * *

As they entered the castle, Helge's turned to the Royal Sisters, his moss cape sweeping to a side. "Now that night has fallen, we must head to the library. I can also be able explain the day's happenings, as you wish. Be warned, you might not like the answer."

Olaf bounced up next to the troll. "Why are you named 'Helga?' Did your parents hate you or something? Or is it this some troll thing you have going on?"

"Of course I have a name. A name is one of the most important pieces of identity and honor that can be bestowed upon you, and gifted at birth no less! It's not for just trolls, it's for everyone who has a sense of self; you too, my friend! Without my name, I would be nothing."

Olaf turned his head backwards to face the young man walking behind him. "Um, Kristoff, I don't think Helga heard my question properly."

Elsa thought of Anna's note, right before she went to town. "Why did you prevent my sister from coming with me?"

"Excellent question. I will be very honest with you, my friends. Today," he spread his hands apologetically, "was an exercise. I had to keep Anna and Kristoff hidden from you to force your development and growth."

Anna opened her mouth to make a cutting remark, but Helge slashed the air his hand, showing he's not finished. "You have to understand, without a companion like Anna, you would have to come to your own conclusions and develop bonds to serve as a substitute. The Royal Visit has been conducted the way it is to strengthen your heart. Both Kristoff and the Princess are very well-developed in their spirits, Anna especially, so they will certainly be prepared for what is to come."

Everyone stumbled, made a double-take, and stared at the troll. "What is coming?"

"I will attend to that request shortly. Right now," he motioned Elsa forward, so she could stand in front of him. "Let me have a look at you, Your Majesty."

Elsa stiffened at the sudden demand, but she knelt down hesitantly in front of the troll. Helge gently placed a hand on her forehead, and another on her chest. She could feel his large, granite-like hands on her skin. They were rock-solid, and produced no body heat whatsoever.

"I am not as good at memory magic as Grand Pabbie is," Helge admitted. "But I can still see that you have done very well, for now." He relaxed, and allowed Elsa to stand back up. "I was beginning to fear that I have made the wrong decision, as have Grand Pabbie unintentionally done for the Royal Family."

He straightened his posture, as best as a little troll could. "Fear not, Queen Elsa. You are no longer required to be apart from your family. From now on, it is best to be with the ones you cherish the most."

Elsa felt several slight, warm weights behind her, and looked back to see Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf placing a hand on the queen. Each and every one of them expressed their faith and belief in her with their eyes. Wherever Elsa goes, however she ends up, they would always be there to follow and support her. Elsa gave them the most appreciating, loving, and happiest smile that she could muster. She loved them, and they knew it.

Helge nodded with approval. "That would be the library, I presume?" The troll pointed at a pair of doors at the end of a grand hallway.

"That would be correct," Elsa replied. She was not particularly looking forward to come inside, mostly because she's already had her fill of books back in that corner of town with Frode.

The troll hobbled in front of the doors, and hopped a little with his right arm reaching upward. It came down along with a sigh. He looked at everyone behind him pitifully. Simply put, he couldn't jump.

Olaf scampered over, giggling happily since he could help, and opened the door for Helge.

"Thank you, Olaf." Helge scuttled into the library, darting his head back and forth between the shelves, and the hundreds of books that have settled in them. "Are you aware of Arendelle's Royal Ancestry?"

Elsa's reply of "Yes" collided with Anna's cheerful "Nope!" simultaneously. Elsa sighed and rolled her eyes at her baby sister, who looked back sheepishly.

"Then I believe you know of Adam the Adventurer, of Ravendall?"

"You mean King Adam the First, of Arendelle?"

"Precisely."

The little troll walked to the most remote, dust-covered part of the library, spotted exactly what he wanted, and jabbed a finger in its direction.

Elsa frowned: she had not reached this section yet in her own bored readings.

Kristoff walked over to the troll's side, following his finger, and stepped up to a book shelf. He carefully pulled out what Helge wanted with one hand, and nearly dropped it in shock. Before it could fall to the floor with a thunderous "WHUMP!", Kristoff dove in to secure a grip, with both hands this time, banging his head lightly against the books shelf as a result. The strong man staggered at the book's absurd weight.

"Woah! Man, this thing might be as heavy as you, Helge!" Anna tittered at her clumsy boyfriend, who in turn replied with a goofy grin.

Elsa, on the other hand, held her breath. This book had a cover made of aged sheep skin, the runes on its binding dating back hundreds of years. Several scraps of papers jutted out of the tome's pages haphazardly. The book looked ready to fall apart at any moment. Miraculously, despite Kristoff's handling of the thing, it held itself with surprising integrity. This book...

It belonged to the late King Eirik of Arendelle. It was the book Eirik always brought with him to his daughters to tell bed-time stories, before the Closed Gates.

Elsa gazed at it with a sudden intensity and hunger, desperate to relive her happy childhood, before her powers could have ever hurt anyone, before she ever had walking nightmares that would sometimes keep her awake for several haunting nights, before she was afraid of the very ice that she created, before her parents...

Elsa's eyes watered, blurring her vision, and threatened to pour down her cheeks. She covered her lips with a tremulous hand, and choked back a sob. Anna and Kristoff watched Elsa with concern, and quickly stood in front of the young queen, so they were all Elsa could see.

A minute passed by before Elsa could regain her composure. "I... I-I'm sorry for being this e-emotional, everyone." She sniffled.

Anna's voice was soft and gentle. "Just let it go, Elsa. It's okay to cry. Holding it back never helped in all of these years." She gave her sister a much-needed hug, feeling Elsa shiver in her arms. "I miss them too," she breathed, "but we'll be here for you."

_Anna, you're such a strong, brave girl, stronger than I could ever be. Mother and Father would be so proud of you, they would have loved you so much..._

Over Anna's shoulder, Elsa saw the troll lifting the book with ease. He looked slightly distressed by what just happened, but Elsa dipped her head to him.

With his necklace of blue crystals and a singular yellow clinking together, he explained further. "Adam the Adventurer was famous for combating various monsters and mythical beings when he was alive."

"They were real? I thought those were make-believe stories Fath-" Elsa hesitated. She saw them. Three years ago, the two parents who loved her with all of their hearts smiled reassuringly to their terrified daughter, before they parted for a trip by boat. She closed her eyes for a long second, and reopened them.

The smiles had actually belonged to Anna and Kristoff.

"-they were stories that Father would tell us as children."

Helge's face twisted into a scowl, not necessarily at anyone. "You see me now, eh? You should be lucky trolls are fond of humans. There are many others, thousands even. Most hate the human folk." He tapped lightly on the heavy and aged book. "This had belonged to Adam, once. One of whom he was, ahem,  _acquainted with_ , is coming, and if we don't stop it soon, Arendelle would be destroyed down to its last child."

He looked around at the stunned faces, his own eyes widening with realization. "Oh no... Subtley. I was supposed to have 'broken the news gently,' no?"

* * *

**This chapter was actually pretty hard to produce. Not really because of its length (but that made self-editing quite the pain), but because of several other factors.**

**For one, I wanted to make the interaction between Frode and Elsa, two awkward people, believable. I'm pretty sure I failed horribly, but this chapter works well enough for me.**

**For another, this was actually of bit of self-therapy for me. If you can't guess what that means by now, it means I'm shy, aggressively so. I even became a Nietzsche Wannabe to justify my weakness. In my freshman and sophomore years, rumors spread that I was deaf.**

**...yeah.**

**Thirdly, I had to make sure this chapter didn't feel like it had a "people should just pick themselves up and work!" attitude. Because life's just not that simple. I freaking wish it did; it'd certainly make for less internet debates.**

**Besides, not everyone can be successful in a world that values extroverts. You're expected to be a leader, to be bold in the face of adversity, to talk and make connections, to crush others actively in competition with a thirst that can only be quenched by success.**

**And then there are the guys who'd rather relax at home and read when the day is done.**

**For now, I'm going by what my mom said, translated from Chinese: "It's important to know _when_  to go outside of your shell and comfort zone to make a difference in life."**

**Fellow introverts, hang in there.**

**...**

**Man, this is getting heavy. Here's a part from _Censored Frozen._**

**For the record, this is replacing [talk to].**

_**"Can I [bleep] you please, alone?"** _

_**"...no."** _

**See you guys soon, fans of _Frozen._**


	6. A Stone Heart

**Funnily enough, I have always, _always_  wanted to write a sci-fi action series, smexy fighting scenes included. I had the ideas for it, and the very first part for such a story is still floating somewhere on Fictionpress. I do not wish to speak of its name, because it was my first internet writing. Painfully so.**

**Thanks to _Frozen,_ I will probably never realize that dream. W** **riting for fantasy came much, much more easily to me, possibly because I have a crippling need for guidelines in a world. If I wanted to do science fiction, I would be compelled to try make it as realistic as possible, while still including large combat robots, which is just not fun (for reasons known physics, which I always founded tedious last year).**

**For fantasy? Just Google a little, learn a some** **background info, and throw everything you just learned away. A Fantasy is _your_  world, you can set your own rules however you want it!**

**As a fun fact, J.R.R. Tolkein was mostly inspired by Norse Mythology in his _Lord of the Rings_ series. Goblins, trolls, elves, dwarves, you name it.**

**Alright, back on topic!**

**Remember when I said in the last chapter (which I decided to keep as second-to-last for now) that I was only able to write half of the planned chapter before expiring? This is the other half. Keep in mind,** **this is Grand Pabbie's chapter. I am aware he gets a little bit of internet hate from time to time, so just bear with me as I try to tell a story from his point of view. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 6

A Stone Heart

* * *

_You are really going to force Elsa and Anna to fight it in the Helheim?_

_The rules of the reality do not apply in the spirit. Where their magic and skills will be hardly able to touch it in Earth, that will not matter in Hel._

_It's influence will spread wider._

_As well as its capabilities. The demon's strength will also be less concentrated, understood?_

_...What about Arendelle?_

_...Its people must remain._

_What about Kristoff?_

_...He must remain._

_Pabbie... this is a severe gamble. Will Elsa be ready by then?_

_I can only hope, Helge. I can only hope._

* * *

For the first time since the sprouting of its first sapling, the forest was silent. Most animals had either wisely evacuated the premises, sensing something alien that was haunting their part of the woods now, or hid, a futile effort in the latter case. The stars have disappeared from the very sky itself, leaving an inky void above.

The Troll King found little need differentiate sound or motion to find his target tonight. He didn't have to determine between a mouse and a footstep, a deer and a man, or anything of the sort. Rather, he focused on trying to find something, anything that was an anomaly to the current, unnatural stillness of the forest.

The moon was at its highest position when Pabbie finally caught something in his eyes.

It hid behind the trees bordering Arendelle's mountains, a shadow enveloped in a deep, grey smog that spilled downwards, and washed against nearby rocks.

The Spøkelse of Ravendall took a slow step forward, its features and figure indecipherable from the dark miasma it produced. Besides a vague silhouette of something that walked upright, there appeared to be no arms, no eyes, mouth, or body. It moved as if it was underwater, ponderous and deliberate. Even more shadowy mist came forth, first desaturating the grass beneath it, then leaving behind trails of dark rust.

Pabbie tapped his staff into the ground, sending golden sparks that danced energetically on the soil around him. "You have come, monster."

_I am no monster_

The words were heavily modulated and full of inconsistency, making it difficult for the shaman's ears to make simple conceptions. It was as if one had listened from one end of a hallway, and several thousand choir members from the other side decided to sing a familiar tune off-key, off-time, and off-volume, until the original melody was near-unintelligible.

"Then surely, you must have a name," the Troll King reasoned. "Otherwise, a monster you shall remain."

_you blabbering pebble_

_you have already delayed me long enough from seeking justice with your irritating walls and wards_

"'Justice' is far too heavy of a word to be used here," Pabbie chided. "You are merely pursuing a grudge with a man who is long dead, and at peace with himself."

_his loathsome legacy remains_

_here you stand defending it_

_your light have splintered and mangled my hands until they were stumps_

"I would have to commend you then," Pabbie said neutrally. "Not many creatures of Power are able to break them apart through sheer force alone. I expected them to last longer, even to one of your power and stature."

_enough with the niceties_

_I knew you were trying to lead me here_

As expected of the Spøkelse's intelligence; from the very beginning, the purpose of the wards was to prevent the demon from reaching Arendelle before clashing with Grand Pabbie first. The Troll King had only so much power to distribute, especially on Earth; the creature is guaranteed to break through and reach the kingdom, no matter how much energy Pabbie invested in one, two, or infinite wards. The ghost could have invaded from anywhere as a result, possibly before Grand Pabbie could intervene and buy enough time.

Instead, Pabbie had covered the landscape in a labyrinth of wards the last night, with specific weak links and points at certain locations, to force the Spøkelse to close the distance between it and Pabbie. In other words, he expected the demon to be baited into breaking the wards where they were at their weakest, instead of investing time and expense on a much more fortified section.

True, he had not intended the creature to reach him this early into the night, but he will have to make do.

The monster growled, smoke jetting out of where its torso shouldv'e been.

_step aside_

_my quarrel is not with you_

Pabbie tightened his grip on the crooked wood of his staff. "I know what you are after," his voice boomed, as crystalline as the mining harvest of the Valley, "and that is why you shall not pass." With one hand, he pointed at the monster. "Turn home, friend. For the first time in three centuries, be at peace."

_what does a troll cursed with a simple facsimile of what people call their_  humanity _would want from such pathetic mistakes_

"What you call a 'simple facsimile' is how I was able to use my abilities against you," the troll rebuked. He softened his voice to one of admonishment. "And why must you call yourself a "mistake?" You are fortunate to have been blessed with the full gift yourself."

_shut up_

_this is my last warning_

"And this one is mine as well." Pabbie slammed the end of his staff to the ground. Wisps of golden light, shining brighter than the moon, sifted from the soil underneath, slithering around him like the lightest silk ribbons in a summer breeze. They were made of his magic, memories of joy and cherished moments he shared with trolls and humans alike.

With one hand, he pointed a shining quartz at the end of his stave to the figure. "Turn back, child. You have weakened yourself against my defenses, and I do not wish to see you in any more pain that you are suffering now."

In response, a hollow sound vibrated in the air, increasing in intensity. What Pabbie initially took as breaths were actually screams, long past any capabilities for vocals. Pabbie's large ears started twitching in irritation, and he covered them with his stone hands, as the Earth began to rumble beneath his bare feet. The trees behind the Spøkelse rustled wildly, shaking leaves down as thickly as snowfall.

The disturbances arrested immediately, and the Spøkelse roared, erupting rust-colored exhaust violently from its entire being, until its vague silhouette was no more. The Spøkelse, now a miniature typhoon of foul air, whirled around Pabbie in a twisted ring, the eye of the miniature hurricane. Lifting his staff's light up for a better view, Pabbie could see vague faces against the light from within the smoke, howling in fury until their voices were indistinguishable from a gale.

The Troll King turned and stepped in place, his beady eyes darting from side-to-side for an attack. He heard the straining of a bowstring, and spun in its direction, his moss cape swishing in the air.

A crossbow bolt, colored so dark it was more black than auburn, buried itself in Pabbie's staff. It hit with a quiet "thunk", and vibrated in place. There was something unpleasant about its shape. Or perhaps, what was inside it...

The shaman cautiously tapped the bolt with his finger, and felt a repulsive sensation grip his heart, as if a chunk of ice, slow to thaw, had settled in his chest. There were faint, unfamiliar images and voices pressing against his mind as well, but Pabbie's stone heart dulled much of their clarity and edge. Even so, the troll understood the source.

Memories.

Until then, Pabbie had been maintaining his poise as he dealt with the creature. He knew it was a truly pitiful thing to exist, one who actively refused to part the world in its death. It was furious at the world for the cruel hands of fate that had toyed with its life, and now seeks blind revenge while absorbing others in its hate.

Such spirit of the Spøkelse of Ravendall's type, if not caliber, needed consolidation.

But...

"These bolts..." He focused golden light, his distilled pride, around his hand to form a gauntlet. Pabbie grasped onto the projectile fully, crushing it in his hands. The weapon splintered into pieces, and caught yellow flames before burning away into nothingness. "They're are made of the memories and despair of your victims!"

Memory Magic had always been Grand Pabbie's forte for centuries; he spent scores of years perfecting the enchantments when he was still a wee little troll, until he was so capable of mental operations, with such deft skill and ease, he could bypass the incompatibility between trolls and the rest of the world's inhabitants. It did not matter if he had to work on a human, a golem, a Fae, or even a mountain; he trained until such little things like separate species did not matter. He was even able share memories and emotions just from mere skin contact.

Thanks to his specialty, the Troll King had assisted hundreds of people; trolls, monsters, and humans alike. Those who came to seek him in the Valley of the Living Rock earned his assistance without pay. He would heal battle-weary soldiers, victims cursed to see things that were not meant to be, lift trauma, and replace tragedy with love and happiness. He cannot calm the minds of everyone who asked for his aid, but he could at least alleviate some of their pain, make their internal struggles easier to overcome.

For Pabbie, the mind was sacred and fragile; it was The Troll King's job to maintain its sanctity, and clear out the nightmares and curses that could threaten it.

To see the Magic of Memories, an art he used for his entire long, long life, centuries upon centuries of use for healing and joy,  _perverted_ into a dark weapon for evil, repurposed to maim instead of love, to strike fear and despair to their targets until they lose all hope and sense of being... The Troll King's hand shook with silent fury, his mane bristling with this grave insult. The Spøkelse sickened him.

Pabbie was no longer in a mood to banter. With his words, he made a direct attack at the monster. "I know who you are. This is, after all,  _your_  iron."

Even more bolts shot out from the fog. Grand Pabbie coated his entire staff in light, and twirled it like a baton. The arrows bounced away harmlessly, bursting into even more cinders that will show no trace of their existence. From the corner of his eye, he saw the darkly auburn glint of a blade from within the smog. Pabbie alternated on one stone foot, and darted to the side in a roll before an iron spear, elongated and cruel, pierced the space where the King had stood on.

_you know you cannot fight once the sun begins to rise_

Grand Pabbie contemptuously crushed the scorched spear in his hand with ease. "If that will be the time that I leave from this world, I would gladly fight on until I'm nothing but rubble."

_I cannot allow that_

From within the rust-colored vortex emerged a figure, clad in a simple plate armor that shone wickedly in the moonlight above. It was tall, taller than any human Pabbie had ever seen before, if he could call it that anymore. When it drew closer, Pabbie could see that there were  _thin_ _gs_  inside the openings of its outfit, too obscured by a shroud of unpleasantly grey smoke. It breathed audibly, puffing out a dully grey mist from the visors of is helm. In the Spøkelse's gloved hand was another spear, a massive and dreadful thing whose blade curled at odd angles.

The creature spun the weapon once in his hand, and thrust at the troll, faster than the human eye could see, a slight "pop" accompanying the jab. Dust kicked upwards in a wave, by force of the impact from iron against stone flesh. The Spøkelse of Ravendall snarled, knowing his weapon had reached its mark. The dirt clouds finally settled, and...

There the Troll King stood, strong and defiant, his right hand gripping hard on his staff, and his left intercepting the spear's blade. Its vicious point had struck Pabbie right in the middle of his palm, piercing his stone skin, and the little being winced. Not out of pain from the injury, but from even more memories worming its way into his heart. It was only because of the natural incompatibility between humans and trolls that he could continue his mental processes.

The Spøkelse pushed the blade harder into the shaman, its armored fingers motioning to twist deeper.

_even something like you would not try to buy time unless_

_ah_

_you believe you have a plan that can defeat me_

Grand Pabbie creased his eyes, but said nothing.

_if you had them run_

_I will hunt them down_

_one by one_

_until no more can people scream_

_until no more can humans voice out their curses and despair_

_until no more can little children breathe to cry_

_Prince Adam's hard work is_ mine  _to exterminate_

_"_ You've hurt him, you know," the Troll King said quietly, soft compassion weighing on his eyelids.

_shut up_

_he was one who commenced this hatred first_

Pabbie's voice grew harder. "Ah, you're acting more like the wounded child you-"

_I cannot believe I am wasting my time talking to you_

The shadowed figure twisted his waist, jerking his armored upper body hard to the right. Pabbie's heavy body was thrown off of his feet with ease, and he stopped himself from tumbling by prostrating on all fours. His staff tumbled a fair distance away, the crystals lights adorning it winking in and out of existence, until all of the glow was gone.

_you are not affected by my fog_

_I cannot hurt you_

The monster kicked the troll over, flipping Pabbie upside so he was facing the sky. He raised an armored hand, which dissolved back into a vague shadow that somehow stood out against the night sky. It exhumed even more thick smog than before.

_I am just going to have to read you_

The Spøkelse shadowed hand dove with terrible grace, streaming ash behind it in a neat arc, and plunged its way into Grand Pabbie's chest.

* * *

Pabbie was no longer in battle with an angry demon.

He was sleeping back in the Valley of the Living Rock, at the very center of his comfortable home. He was awoken by his fellow trolls and young grandchildren, all of them babbling something about the King.

The memory of Eirik's father was what snapped Pabbie awake instantaneously. He hurriedly snapped his cape on, and rolled towards the waiting Royal Family. Immediately, he could sense that something was wrong; an unnatural chill had hung in the air, especially around the King's two young daughters.

After he had done what he could for poor young Anna, he turned to her older sister, Elsa. The one who was born with Winter at her beck and call.

"Listen to me, Elsa, your power will only grow." He raised his arms to call forth lights, made of the memories he had removed from Anna, and his own understanding of human nature. Everyone present could see the silhouette of a beautiful woman, surrounded by an adoring audience; the projections looked at the lady in awe as she called forth a massive snowflake that floated gracefully in the air.

"There is beauty in your magic... But also great danger."

The snowflake became spiked and jagged, red light bursting outward like lightning in a thunderstorm. The troll shaman could see young Elsa's gasp fearfully in the scarlet flashes. The projection of the audience became twisted and red as well; they swarmed upon the young woman until she vanished.

"You must learn to control it. Fear will be your enemy." Pabbie grimaced. He knew all too well about human fear and witch hunts, although the care of Elsa's parents might suggest that attitude was losing its foothold. Young Elsa hugged closer to her father's chest for protection.

"No," King Eirik said, remaining as determined and resolute as Pabbie remembered him since he was a small, foolhardy child. "We'll protect her. I'm sure."

The Troll King watched the Royal Family with the rest of his companions, as they mounted onto their horses and rode off into the darkness of the forest and night. He could hear the trolls besides him discussing about this sudden visit, some more concerned than others. However...

Something was severely wrong. A tiny little figure stood alone, desolate and sad. Pabbie could hear tiny, weak sobs, and the girl quaked and shivered with sadness and fear. Frost spread out from her feet, covering the stone and moss floor in sharp needles of ice.

_Why on Earth would they leave Elsa here?_

The Troll King looked around in confusion, realizing the rest of his troll family had vanished. There was no one in Valley besides him, and the girl. The silence was only broken by the Little Elsa's crying.

Pabbie walked forwards slowly and cautiously, ignoring the icy needles beneath his feet. They are made of stone, after all. Elsa showed any signs of noticing him.

Grand Pabbie tugged on Elsa's hand, and immediately recoiled. A chip of ice had emerged from the contact, which bloomed into a thick coating of frost that spread its way up the shaman's arm. He tried scratching it off desperately, sending chilly petals sprinkling to the ground, but more and more ice encased his rock skin, creeping its way into his body.

Elsa turned, and both troll and human stared at each other, eyes wide in horror. Elsa's hair sprouted outwards, until they were a tangled platinum mess that fell down her back. Her face elongated and morphed into that of the Queen's features, albeit one that was agape in pure, feral terror. Her startlingly icy blue eyes were wet with bulbous tears. Elsa grew in size and height, moaning horribly in pain. She clutched at her chest, shaking herself violently from one side to the other. The fabric of the child's clothing was straining and stretching, trying in vain to fit the growing girl.

She writhed, and her garments split and tore apart at the seams. Elsa frantically clutched onto the rags in an attempt to cover herself, her eyes darting back and forth in anxious paranoia. She transformed into a naked, frail shadow of what she could have been; an absolutely stunning and gifted woman. She couldn't be considered one though; she was just too hurt and shattered for her beauty to show.

Grand Pabbie's body was completed trapped in ice now, a tomb to represent his failure to help the one who would have needed him the most. He watched Elsa helplessly as she gave a subdued yelp of terror at him, and scrambled out into the darkness beyond, her rags flapping in the wind.

Pabbie stood alone in his Valley now, alone, voiceless, and serving penance for his poor prediction and neglect.

* * *

The Troll King opened his eyes, and woke up back in his home, once more. He scratched his nose, idly noticing that there was no ice limiting his movement anymore.  _  
_

"Grand Pabbie! Pabbie!" he heard his grandchildren cry. "Kristoff brought a girl home! Isn't that neat! I think he wants to ask you to bless their marriage!"

"Alright, alright," Pabbie groaned. "I'm up, I'm-"

Pabbie's wild hair stood on its ends. The air... it's been thirteen years...

Pabbie rushed as quickly as his age will let him, the Aurora Borealis shining above him as he rolled. He heard the distant singing of his family, no doubt to encourage Kristoff and the lucky woman to marry. Even so... there's strange magic going on in here. He must find out what was disturbing him.

Pabbie stopped himself on a steep hilltop to observe the cheerful chaos below. His family had truly pulled out all of the stops for this one, as they were doing full choreography, flowers, and wedding props. They even dressed Kristoff and his lady with two traditional troll wedding outfits, fitted for humans. Where they had produced the measurements and tailoring in such a short time, Pabbie was not too sure.

The trolls have placed the couple at the wedding altar in plain view, and Pabbie's heart plunged into despair. This woman, whose hair was partially red and white...

_It couldn't be. It just can't. Years of good judgement..._  If she truly was what Pabbie thought she was, then Pabbie would never forgive himself.

He rolled to the center of the valley, where his family had dug a trough for Kristoff and the woman to marry in. In front of the couple, Pabbie stopped on his feet, and his heart sank even lower; she was only five at the time, but he recognized her as Princess Anna, of Arendelle. She had become a beautiful lady, one who vibrated with life, and strained to keep a smile going with her eyes and rosy freckled cheeks, despite her weakened body. In any other situation, he would have remarked that she would make a good spouse for his Kristoff.

Once again, in spite of all the precautions, all of his experience, Anna had been cursed with ice magic. She was exhausted, and Pabbie could see the formation of a white snowflake in her blue irises, a stark contrast to what remained of her fiery red hair. He held Anna's shivering, ice-cold hands in his, forming an empathetic connection as was his usual diagnosis. He felt its chill pierce his own heart, in another body.

_No, no. No, please! This cannot be true!_

His worst fear has been realized. After thirteen year, despite what he believed to be the correct advice and recommendations, Elsa was not able to control her magic. For the first time since he became King, Pabbie's knowledge and experience had failed him. Right in front of him, an innocent young Princess freezing to a cruel death, was the grave price of his sins.

"Anna," he said, his chest heavy with both Anna's internal suffering, and his own. He just couldn't believe... and here she was. "Your life is in great danger. There is ice in your heart, put there by your sister." He almost crumbled into dry sobs as he continued, terribly regretful for what he has done. "If not removed, to solid ice will you freeze, forever."

His mind raced with every possible method for recovery, but he has only ever learned of only one, vague solution, one that likely was the  _only_  cure.

"What...? No."

Kristoff, his beautiful, brave, adoptive human grandson, panicked. It never suited his usually cool and collected features. "So remove it, Grand Pabbie."

What the Troll King said next nearly destroyed him, made him curse himself for being such a weak, incapable, moronic old fool. Pabbie explained, "I can't. If it was her head, that would be easy. But only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart."

As the trolls, Anna, and Kristoff considered the logistics of True Love, Pabbie's head was filled with dark shame. He had failed the late King and Queen. He had failed Elsa, who was fearful enough to have lost control and done  _this_  to her sister. He had failed Anna, who remained unsafe despite all of the trouble and isolation she had gone through. He might as well have cursed Anna's heart himself.

He saw Kristoff lifting Anna out of the makeshift wedding chapel. They have been talking about this Prince Hans, who Anna had been engaged to. Pabbie frowned in thought at the two. So Anna did not truly love Kristoff after all.

He watched Kristoff as he carried Anna out tenderly, and his mane suddenly stiffened in suspicion.

The man was Kristoff no longer, but a shadowy outline that continued to hold onto the Princess. There were no remarkable attributes or physical qualities about it, for Pabbie had never met this man.

As Anna slowly leaned in for a kiss, the shadow dropped her to the ground, as one would callously treat a piece of luggage, or perhaps cargo. She fell with an audible thud, shocked into silence. The shadow walked away for her has she screamed at it, confused and betrayed.

Pabbie tried to rush over to help the Princess, but he couldn't move. He looked down and saw that his body was encased in ice once more. He was lame and pathetic. The shaman could do nothing but watch as Anna huddled to herself and her cloak to maintain what little body heat she had left. But he could just leave her alone; how else can a King face himself after doing absolutely  _nothing_  right for thirteen entire years?

"Princess Anna! Just... just stay with me. You are not alone, I will be here for you," Pabbie rambled, nearly driven to madness. "Please, Anna, hold on! Help will come soon..." She did not hear him. Every shiver, every mumble, every whimper for heat stabbed Pabbie's stone heart like a mining pickaxe.

A minute passed in a slow crawl, as Pabbie was tortured again and again with the sight of the broken girl.

Finally, she succumbed to the curse; her chest was the first to turn to ice, followed by the rest of her body.

"No! Please! I'll do anything! Somebody! Help her! Anyone!" But Pabbie knew that was useless. Everything that he had ever done was fruitless as of late. Anna was now a lying ice statue, pure and utter despair expressed in her beautiful, eternally frozen face.

_If I had never helped, if I had left them alone, none of this would have happened. Why did I even bother learning the art of Memories?_

The floor was suddenly veiled by a grey mist that drifted, almost as if it had a mind of its own. A haunting whisper fluttered by Pabbie's ears. It sounded almost... surprised.

_you placed your hopes in these desperate sad failures_

_your failures_

_you broke them_

The Spøkelse! This isn't anymore a memory than it is a nightmare!

Pabbie shut his eyes, and blocked out his surroundings until he could hear, see, or feel nothing anymore.

The shaman concentrated within himself, until he stood in an empty void, without any ice entombing him. Even mired in his internal darkness, Pabbie had several decades of meditation to manage his emotions, to understand them. This was not the first crushing regrets he suffered, and they certainly won't be the last.

_None of this is real. These may be my mistakes, but I can recover from them. It is not too late for me to help them. For their sake, I must escape._

Pabbie's magic relied on recollections of the past and the feelings they carry, especially those of love and happiness. It is the emotion trolls feel the strongest, after all. He focused on his most joyful memories; the ceremony that made him leader of his people, decades of singing and caring for his family, and the first night he helped someone who was not a troll. A little girl, that person was, stumbling in the woods while crying for her mother. Pabbie was very young, only age thirty-two back then, and he was looking for some fungus that he heard from his peers could enhance his magical capabilities temporarily.

Because he was still in training, he was only able to review her memories as if they were still portraits, and very fuzzy ones at that. The incompatibility of the two hearts did not help at all, rendering such memories near-worthless. The two had to determine exactly which part of the woods she had described in her mind, which way she faced at the time, retracing the girl's steps, and going in wild circles until they reached the end of the forest, a human settlement within sight. The girl kissed Pabbie on the nose out of appreciation, and waved back at him in the distance as she ran home.

He never saw that little lady again, but from that day forth, he studied harder than he ever thought he would in twenty years of tutoring, determined to help any creature that came to him for help, incompatibility be damned.

Then, he recounted another human of whom he knows very well; his beautiful grandson, Kristoff, and his friend Sven. Bulda had brought them in after the Royal Family visited the Valley. The blond little boy was jumping with utter excitement when he realized the two best friends will have a new, loving family to replace the one that was lost, years ago. Then, Pabbie remembered the pride he felt for the boy when he learned Kristoff had taken his first job as an ice harvester. The Troll King truly revered the boy gifted to his family, and celebrated for an entire night when the Valley's residents learned their adoptive boy had been taken in by the Royal Sisters, finally accepted into a home where he truly belonged.

Now, the Spøkelse of Ravendall's influence was not so overwhelming anymore. Pabbie's memories, a bright, sparkling golden flame that licked at his insides warmly, spread out in a wash of ambient light that evaporated the ghost's smoke away into oblivion. Just as Grand Pabbie was empowered by positive emotions, the demon cannot help but abhor them with every fiber of its being, its attacks and illusions included. Pabbie knew he must fight on, and make up for his past miscalculations to the Royal Sisters, of whom he owes so much.

_I will not fail you this time._

* * *

Pabbie eyes snapped open, finally conscience. He was back at the borders of Arendelle once more, lying on dirt. Not too far away, the Spøkelse of Arendelle was panicking, waving its arm in pain as a golden flame burned it, chewing away armor as a fire would consume paper.

Coughing slightly and catching his breath, Grand Pabbie's alert mind instantly comprehended the reaction. Despite the armor, the weapons, and sheer power the spirit possessed, it clearly feared the emotions that drove Pabbie's magic. The monster hurriedly produced grey smoke that coated the yellow conflagration, drowning and snuffing it out with its despairing fog.

The Spøkelse noticed the Troll King coming to, and more smoke jettisoned out from its hands with gusto. It gathered around the troll shaman's body, and coalesced into hundreds of dark, iron spears, spanning from every direction. They blotted out the moonlight, forming their own pitch-black sky, complete with the glints of multiple blades that replaced the vanished stars.

_I hated Adam_

_but he was at least a challenge_

_let us see how his broken little spawn fare_

The Spøkelse flicked its wrist, and the many spears sank into the ground, forming a caged outline of the little troll. They interlocked messily with each other, quivering slightly from their impacts. Pabbie found himself unable to budge from his position.

_Escape, before he disappears..._ Grand Pabbie's fingers brushed an iron auburn bar, and set it alight in yellow sparks. The fire spread quickly, charring more and more enchanted metal.

The armored spirit, taking the opportunity presented now that the Troll King was incapacitated, dissolved its form, once again becoming a grey sentient fog. It collected into a dark mass, roughly the size and shape of a small boulder, that settled gently onto the dirt. The spirit then rocketed from its position with an incredible shockwave, creating a deafening crack of sound that reverberated throughout the forest, kicking debris everywhere, bending back trees and branches, and striking Pabbie's makeshift prison, creating an incredible ringing din that mixed disagreeably with the sonic boom. Miasma streaked behind the Spøkelse as it soared over Arendelle's high mountains, a dull comet in the night sky.

Grand Pabbie watched the spirit as it made its course, and lowered his head in despair and disappointment.

Once again, the Troll King has failed. His knowledge proved useless. His limitations were too great. The night was still young. The Spøkelse was not sealed. It had won.

It would reach Arendelle within hours.

_No! There's still hope!_

Pabbie glanced at the staff lying on the ground. He almost never used the thing for years until today, but he crafted it with his own two hands, early into his leadership. The yellow crystals and aged wood that made up the staff were rare in quality, designed to amplify and control his magic abilities. It was what gave Pabbie a fighting chance against the Spøkelse in the first place.

The staff took the shaman nearly a decade of labor to finish and put to use.

After this sealing enchantment, he would have to spend another decade of work.

Grand Pabbie pulled himself free from the cage of spears. He ran and picked up the staff, its crystals relighted and shining bright. The troll shaman set his body and posture into a stance, and murmured in Ancient Norse. He flicked the staff in various geometric polygons and angles, then into glowing runes that remained etched into the air in front of him, before aiming the staff toward the grey comet in the dark sky.

Pabbie needed a link to the Spøkelse, to guarantee that this will work.

Without moving his staff away from the target, Pabbie swept a near-perfect circle into the dirt with his stubbed toes. He knew the Spøkelse's true identity, although it was never recorded by human memory. Grand Pabbie had to go through a lot of trouble just to hear it from a stubborn elf hermit. By speaking its name, he can direct this seal to the very heart of the darkness flying above.

This part needed no runes or incantations. All he only needed is the identification. Pabbie opened his mouth, and breathed.

_**"**_ Hólmgeirr. _ **"**_

The Earth began to moan a deep, hallowed resonance. Golden light sprouted from the soil, the woods, the rocks, and from Pabbie himself. They snaked their way into the crystals of his staff, until the minerals shined with such brilliance and heat, The Troll King was nearly blinded by their intensity. He held tightly on the staff, which was now vibrating against his fingers from all of the energy stored within, threatening to escape his grasp.

The runes, an old poem commonly sung in the realm of Hel, spiraled and elongated, whispering their pronunciations as they whistled in the air, before collecting into the staff. A high-pitched trill, loud and sharp as a magnified birdsong, pierced the quiet of the night, and the miniature suns the shaman had restrained exploded spectacularly. Shards of yellow quartz flew in all directions, and the wood splintered into dust and shavings beneath Pabbie's hands.

As his arms lowered, what was left of his staff now useless trinkets, Pabbie watched as a dazzling lance of golden lightning, trailing sparks behind, and infused with his will to imprison, chase the smoking demon down, a harpoon for the great monster. Both vanished out of sight behind a mountain peak.

"I'm sorry, child," Grand Pabbie spoke sadly, exhausted. The stars, now uninhibited by dark magic, returned to dotting the night with their twinkling brightness. "From now on, you will have carry out your misguided efforts on foot." He looked up at the skies to determine the time, pinching a yellow crystal on his necklace. It was cut from a much larger piece, its sister located a few hundred miles away, in Arendelle's Royal Castle.

_The Spolkese is now locked in Helheim._

_My role in this plan is done._

_The Royal Family will have two days left, not three._

* * *

**Would you guys kindly review on this chapter, please? I'm serious this time. Not that I want to ruin anything, but this is essentially a preview into what you can expect of soon. Still plenty of fluff! You can guarantee that, but yeah, this is important.**

**See you guys soon, fans of _Frozen._**


	7. The Past is in the Past

**10k+ words... A new record.**

**_Frozen-_ related news: Has anyone been to the  _Frozen_  sing-along? I can't go, but I really, really wanted to! If one of you fans came, tell me what was it like! I've been trying to look for a recording of an entire audience singing "For the First Time in Forever" horribly.  
**

**All rights go to Disney. Keep up the good work, you money-grubbing dream makers.**

**Oh, I nearly forgot to credit the lovely FrozenRose1 for volunteering to edit my work. I have no idea who she  **(turned out she is a girl)** is, but a person who offers one needed help for no return has to be a wonderful person.**

**As of now, this is my first proof-read chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it!**

* * *

Chapter 7

The Past is in the Past

* * *

Anna and Olaf were not the types to be silent. They were the kind of people to continue bouncing off the walls with their boundless optimism, providing relief to the dour silence that permeated the castle walls at times. For years, in Anna's case.

Both of them remaining completely motionless at the same time was unthinkable. Yet here they were, speechless.

Of all people, Kristoff was the one to shatter the silence. "So, we have a bit of problem, right?" He struggled to maintain an upbeat tone. "Big looming threat that will destroy the kingdom in a few days? We've done it before, sounds like something we can handle!" Sadly, his voice was too dry to convey enthusiasm.

Worried for Arendelle, Elsa asked, "Who was this person targeting Adam?"

"Not a person. A Spøkelse. One who has consumed others of its kind for centuries."

Anna raised her hand meekly. "Um... Excuse me? What can it do, exactly?"

"Anna," Elsa said, her voice guarded. "Remember the story Father told us, years ago?"

"Which one? Cause I kinda forgot. It was so long ago, I could hardly remember the past years nowadays."

"It was about when Adam left Ravendall forever, Anna." Elsa replied quietly.

"Really? Now that I look at it, wasn't it kind of like when you ran up to the North..." Anna's voice faded, seeing Elsa cringe. The air dropped a couple of degrees. "Oh no... I'm so, so sorry Elsa."

"I-it's okay."

Once again, the silence descended itself upon the group in the library, corporeal and suffocating.

"So what," Kristoff said, once more breaking the ice, "what would reading this book do to help us against this old ghost?"

Helge raised a disappointed eyebrow at his foster brother. "Kristoff, I thought we taught you better; learning more about an opposition will give us a better idea on how to manage it."

"Hey, I listened to Mom on how to travel through the mountains safely. I wanted to harvest ice, not become a schoolteacher..." Kristoff replied indignantly.

"Why waste your talents with solid water? You had the brains for it, and you were so eager to learn when we first adopted you. For some reason however, you continued to follow those ice harvesters. You could have been a shaman, even! You just needed the..." Helge began to bicker with Kristoff about the importance of the mountain man's education, almost nose-to-nose in their confrontation.

Someone cleared her throat loudly. They snapped their heads to see the Snow Queen, looking down on the table so she wouldn't have to focus on their eyes. She looked almost apologetic.

"E-Excuse me, may I just... take a look at this book?"

Helge widened his eyes, forgetting about his argument. "But of course. It belong to you now." He lifted the book above his head respectfully. "You are the Queen of Arendelle, after all."

_It was your parents. You are the queen._

Elsa held out her trembling hands, and felt her fingers wrap around the rough covering of the book. She nodded at Helge, who released the book from his hands. The tome dipped down like a stone, and her back strained as she prevented it from touching the carpet floor.

The extreme weight of the book did not surprise Elsa, at all. She was just a weak, timid little girl after all, desperately trying to imitate the ease and poise that her father always seemed to carry with him. She knew she could never handle the book like her parents did.

Another pair of hands swooped to catch the other side. Elsa tilted her head up, and saw Anna beaming at her. Her arms strained heavily with the weight, and she assumed a stance with hunched shoulders and widened legs, completely undignified. Nonetheless, she eased Elsa's burden.

"Anna..."

"Kristoff wasn't kidding," she said, trying to contain her laughter. "Is there a table nearby?"

"I don't think a mere table could support that monster..." Kristoff muttered, but he quickly slipped a desk between the sisters. Helge and Olaf scuttled to place some chairs for everyone.

With a cry of effort, Anna and Elsa released the book. There was only a few centimeters between the volume and wood, but the resultant sound was thunderous, rolling through the rows of shelves and empty halls.

Helge stood up from a plush chair. He drank in the book's aged grandeur, not at all bothered that it was a mess of paper within. "More than three hundred centuries of human history..." he said, in complete awe. The little troll gave everyone a look, and opened it gently.

Dust shot everywhere, unbidden and unrestrained. At least three years collection of dry powder sent everyone into coughing fits. Olaf grasped his nose and sneezed, launching his head to the other side of the royal library. "Oh my, give me a bit." The snowman fell to the ground with a muted thud, and rolled its way to the missing cranium.

"Just like old times, I suppose?" Elsa gagged. She blinked and looked at the open pages. She saw short notes littered everywhere, almost covering the actual manuscripts. One of the pages contained a looping handwriting, and Elsa heart came to a stop.

How long had it been, three years or more, since she had seen that particular way the letter "g" was curved? On documents, on letters to other countries, on little notes of love. She followed that letter, watching with fascination as it turned into a stanza of a poem, beautiful because of the person who wrote it.

She flicked her eyes to another page. These different, flowing curves, for a time, had accompanied her in lonely nights, when the pale moon reflected itself against mirrors made of ice. They were made by hands that tutoring Elsa on how to tie her braid into a bun, hands that held Elsa aloft as a little girl, hands whose warmth no longer existed.

Elsa wanted more. She longed for the last evidence of her parents' existence. She wanted to take that book from Helge's hands, steal it away with her into her room, and lock herself for hours on end, reading these pages over and over again until she could almost see the King and Queen themselves, on solid ground and smiling. Maybe she could even talk to them. For all she knows, this book may as well be the closest thing this world has to revisiting the dead and gone.

"Elsa."

The Snow Queen shuddered, and blinked rapidly at her concerned friends. She had been wrapping her arms around herself. A fine layer of snow rested on the table, except where Helge used his body to cover the book. Any moisture would have probably damaged the book beyond repair. Anna and Kristoff were shivering slightly in their summer clothing, exhaling mist. Frost had bloomed at her end of the table, starting from her shaking fists, forming crystals that shimmered in the moonlight.

_Focus._

There is no use in learning more about her parents. The fate of her kingdom was far more important than pathetic, wishful pining. "E-excuse me, everyone. I'm sorry." The snow slowly withdrew back to her, before vanishing in thin air.

Helge chewed on a piece of ice as he flipped the pages gently, sending even more dust flying away that settled on the table.

"We've reached Adam's diary." He tapped on a section that contained archaic scribbles. "Now, Grand Pabbie had managed to estimate when and where Adam the Adventurer first came across the Spøkelse of Ravendall." He lifted a sheet, and looked at both sides. "He focused the date down to around a few months, and these entries appear to be a weekly event..." He peeked into a section deeper in the book. "Beyond this, it's a complete mess."

Elsa saw Kristoff narrow his eyes at those words.

"Alright..." Helge frowned in concentration. "Here we are. This was his first time exploring the Lost Woods of Ravendall... Well, got lost in it, really. He only made it out because he met a Landvættir... nothing special there. Oh, on his second time, he made friends with a few ghosts! Imagine that..."

Anna and Elsa were young at the time, but developed enough cynicism that they hardly believed their Father was being serious about Adam's stories. Still, they remembered something Eirik mentioned one night when they were together, a remark that passed over their heads.

_Ghosts are born when people don't accept their deaths, or are really unaware. Ravendall was infamous for teeming with apparitions, because the Lost Woods just happened to provide a... sufficient atmosphere._

"Tried petting a reindeer, nearly got himself gorged..."

"Hey!" Kristoff snapped. "I would have you know that reindeers are perfectly nice-"

"And you indirectly kiss one regularly. We know." Anna covered her mouth to hide a smile at her boyfriend, as Kristoff's face flushed. Elsa herself never really thought of Kristoff's occasional habits in...  _that_  particular way.

"Made a bet with a ghost one day to climb the highest tree as quickly as possible, only to end up stuck there..." Helge continued.

"How did he come down?" Anna chirped.

"He fell off when he accidentally offended an elf sitting at the highest branch. He had mistaken her for a very beautiful ghost, and was slapped into the nearby lake."

Anna giggled slightly at the thought of a man (looking a little like Kristoff) given a flying lesson. "Prince Adam wasn't exactly the type to think things through, was he?"

Elsa allowed herself to smirk. "Not unlike a certain sister..."

"Elsa!" Anna whined.

Helge pointed at a date. "Ah. I think this should be within a month of the incident. Just what we were looking for." The troll cleared his throat. Here we go..."

* * *

 **Page 65** : The King, was being extra thick today. The whole time last night, he repeatedly told me, his overblown purple cape following behind him and trailing dirt all over the carpeting, "Do NOT reenter the Lost Woods! I am in no mood to have my little brother killed! This is my final warning!"

Normally, I would find that a perfectly reasonable, if albeit ignorant command.

_"How old is Prince Adam at the time, exactly?" Anna asked._

_"Seventeen," Helge replied._

_"What!? Younger than me at the time? That's totally not fair..."_

_"Anna, you know better than to interrupt." Elsa broke in._

_Helge rolled his eyes and continued with the entry._

I was beginning to regret telling him that the trade routes running through Ravendall's forests were coming up with more and more disappearances. I've been working my best to protect my people as Prince, but... there's only so much one man can do. I'm getting tired. I nearly lost a man to pack of wolves yesterday. That's why I told Trigve in the first place, to send the message that forest shortcuts are no longer safe.

I didn't even mention about the decreasing ghost population, or else he would just toss my news aside as his typical brother's "attention-seeking."

Trigve would never know about the condition of Ravendall's land himself; he's always too busy in his room, doing whatever kings are supposed to do these days. Every time I see him, he is buried in forms after pacts after treaties for hours on end. He really needs to find himself a wife fast, before he implodes from starvation, or crushes himself in paperwork.

I was on my way to the weekend business with Guðmundr. Boy, I really wish he left his home at times; the path I walked on was intended for dwarves, and it showed. The sun was being extra cheerful today, shining so brightly it penetrated the usual cool shades of the forest, replacing every color under the trees with an emerald monochrome. I sweated through my armor and heavy as I squeezed myself into tight and low places. I severely wished I could bring Applelsin here; he should be the one doing all the waking. Dwarves. They never bother to clear away tree branches higher than my belt level. I can't ride on horseback, and I'm carrying venison over my shoulder, for crying out loud.

So, as I hauled the fresh reindeer-

_"Kristoff, would you please stop? I'm trying to read here."_

_"He'll never touch Sven. I'll be here to make sure he won't," Kristoff promised to himself._

_"Adam's dead though," Anna pointed out._

_"Enough, you two. Helge, please proceed."_

-As I hauled fresh rein...  _venison_ , the heat and the thick branches threatening to smother me to death, I examined the trees on my right for a relatively small oak, one with a weak, gimpy lowermost branch. I scratched my name and an arrow in it months ago, to prevent me from forgetting the direction of Guðmundr's place. I don't really need such markings nowadays, but I've had some close calls where I nearly got lost recently; one can lose his footing if not always on guard in these woods, and I'm not interested in turning into something as depressing as a ghost. Gloomy things.

I followed the tangent formed by the arrow on the trunk. It did not actually point to an real pathway, because Guðmundr wasn't the kind of person to like being found.

Finally, I found myself in an open space completely free of trees. It was like a grass-filled crater, formed as if an entire, perfectly circular patch of forest was scooped out with a utensil. It's a relatively small pocket, but the temperature was always comfortable, the grass is softer than the finest feather-downs, and the wind creates the most soothing of melodies as they pass through the canopy of trees.

A lonely ash tree, paradoxically the size of a man, and older than the entire forest, stood at the very center of this opening, with a round patch of dark earth resting besides it. I sat in front of the ash, and dropped the meat to the ground.

"Hey, Treeshield, you up yet?"

_"Treeshield?" Kristoff asked sceptically._

_"Oh right, It is a rather strange word." Elsa answered. "...Father said it was a nickname."_

_"Hey Elsa? Loving the ice, but be careful." Anna said gently._

At first , there was no response. I looked left and right, and gently rapped once on the trunk. I kept my eyes peeled for anything around me. The guardian doesn't mind that sort of thing himself, the knocking, but I have enough of well-meaning faeries trying to protect their warden. Stupid little buggers with their pine pins.

Still no response from the old geezer. I sighed, and went to work. I dug a pit out of the patch of open earth, leaving the black soil aside in a pile. I stood up hacked off a limb from the ash with my sword, and looked at the stump remaining behind. I whistled low; it never failed to impress me whenever I see a bud sprout out instantly; this ash was the resting place for a Landvættir. The cut arm should be back in full size before my next visit.

Something tapped me on the shoulder, and I whipped around, partially drawing out my sword. I stumbled backward, trying to get a good footing so I can attack properly. My back hit the ash, and I was faced with the forest guardian himself.

He had the face only his mother could love, if he ever had one-

_"Do they have mothers?" Anna piped up._

_"Anna." Elsa said, exasperated._

_"Maybe they only have dads! I wonder how is that supposed to work..." Olaf's voice trailed off, and he scratched his head, puzzled._

_"Frankly, I've never met one myself. You should go find out." Helge lightly suggested._

-It was as twisted an gnarled as a piece of old driftwood, full of wrinkles and swirls that turned towards odd directions infinitely. They wrapped around his facial features and nose, twisting their way down his neck, and the rest of his hobbled body. Parts of his skin was covered in lichen, imitating liver spots. A wisp of dried, brown, hair-like substance hung from his chipped chin like a goatee, but in reality was just piece of moss. He had nothing else on him, not even a toupee made of grass. Instead, he possessed a dome, but he didn't have a smooth and shiny human pate. The thing was as gnarled and jagged as the rest of his body. His arms and shoulders looked no better than his face, and small stumps of what could have been branches stuck out like sore thumbs.

Overall, he didn't look like someone you'd hug, for fear of getting splinters.

I hugged him anyway.

_The snowman came over to Elsa's side, his stick arms spread wide. "You are magical yourself, being a Snow Queen and everything, but at least I think you are huggable."_

_Elsa couldn't help but smile at his cheerful sincerity._

"Why do you always have to vandalize my home, Adam?"

"Quiet. You enjoy the smell of charcoal anyways, boss." I split the branch into smaller pieces with my knife, and arranged them into a tidy pile on the circular pit of dirt. I took out my flint, and turned towards him. "A little help?"

The Landvættir huffed a little. "What happened to you months ago when I first met you, crawling on your belly? You were so courteous. Humans, these days..." Still, he snapped his fingers.

I struck the flint once, sending a couple of sparks onto the woodpile. It burst into flames instantaneously, as wild and as intense as a compact forest fire.

_"Fires don't work like that, right? Kristoff?" Anna asked, looking up to him._

_"Not with fresh wood like that. Must've been magic." Kristoff replied evenly._

As I waited for the wood to be converted into charcoal, I skinned the reinde- "sigh"  _venison_ , until I had loads of meat. I buried the organs beneath the ground, nearby the ash tree, and stuck a large chunk on a spit. I sprinkled a bit of seasoning that was stored in a pouch just for these occasions. The smell of the venison, combined with the herbs and wood of the ash... absolutely amazing.

The Landvættir sat at the base of his tree, watching the fire with patient eyes. To an outsider with no knowledge of his resting spot, he would have appeared as a particularly overgrown root, a tumor attached to the ash.

I poked the meat, and took it from the stand. I sniffed, taking in the rich aroma, and bit.

I swear to you, this flavor only improves with every bite. The juices and the fat melted on my tongue, sending waves of pleasure down to my stomach. Hearty flavors settled into my stomach, and I haven't even swallowed yet. Every visit to ol' Guðmundr always began like this for the last half a year. For a moment, I stopped thinking about how tedious he could be at time.

I gestured to the Landvættir with the meat. "You want 'un, Treeshield?"

The guardian, his voice always as dry as the rest of his wrinkly body, responded, "You know I have no use for those things."

"Alright," I said in mock surrender. "Suit yourself." I finished the rest of the reindeer.

_"You said it."_

Satisfied, I laid on my back, and watched the leaves rustle in the summer breeze. I drew a flagon from my pack, and poured myself a cup. I downed the thing in one go, feeling a sweet, burning sensation wash down my tongue and settle in my stomach, delicious and strong. My throat tingled pleasantly, as I walked over to pour a little on the ash bark itself.

The Landvættir's eyes twinkled a little. "Mead, this time?"

_Wait, what? He's seventeen, and he could drink something like that!?" Anna blurted out. "If he can, why can't I?"_

_"Anna," Elsa retorted, "you know why I cannot have you nearby anything stronger than the chocolate fondue."_

_"But Elsa..." Anna whined._

_And I'm suspecting even fondue is too much for you," Elsa said, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips._

_"What!?" Anna shouted, horrified._

_"Complain again, and I will tell your boyfriend here about the last time you were tipsy."_

_Kristoff raised a hand. "Hang on, I'm interested..."_

_"Kristoff!" Anna exclaimed._

_Helge looked up from the book once more. "Can we get back to the story?" he interrupted._

"Yep. Nicked from my brother's storage." I swigged a little more from the bottle, watching the trees dance in the summer breeze with appreciation. "I look forward to fall season a few weeks from now. When the leaves change color."

Guðmundr pursed his lips. "Maybe I'll have you paint the leaves when the time comes, Adam."

"That... actually sounds pretty nice." I sat up. "So, what's today's work, Guðmundr?"

The spirit crinkled his eyes, the closest expression he ever had to a smile. "A land Draugr decided to settle in the lower West Banks. Care to clear it out for me?"

I groaned, full of the meat, the mead, and his demands. "I swear, Treeshield." I pointed an accusing finger at him. "You know what, I think you are just trying to kill me sometimes." I buried the cinders in the fire pit with the dirt, so the burnt wood was one with Guðmundr again. The Landvættir sighed with appreciation.

"Yeah, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you..." I grumbled.

* * *

 **Page 66** : Too exhausted to write: guy was a Draugr for a reason. I smell. Tired of the King's inanity. I'm going to sleep."

_"For an "Adventurer," he sure does complain a lot," Anna remarked._

_"So what, he's technically that forest guardian's errand boy?" Kristoff asked._

_"Not necessarily an "errand boy", Kristoff, but the description is apt enough. Apparently, that was how he managed to survive in the woods for so long. Protection for services. It just so happened that Adam the Adventurer made a powerful ally." Helge explained._

_Kristoff nodded. "Let's move on, I wanna hear more."_

_"Good to know someone appreciates history." Helge responded._

* * *

**Page 67** : I met a boy today.

_Kristoff raised a finger, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Wait for it..."_

No, that didn't sound too special at first thought for me, either. Children are rare in the forest, thankfully, but I would meet the occasional one. They were always happy to see others, blissfully unaware about their own demise.

_"I knew it. From mundane to creepy in four sentences." Kristoff said accusingly._

_"Kristoff!" Anna giggled._

At times, they can be mistaken for dancing elves, even in solitude. They were... I can't say happy, that would be absolutely monstrous of me. But, they were easier to approach and inform than their... adult counterparts. They can move on to the Great Beyond incredibly easily, their hearts not yet weighed by years of regret and anger.

Which is why I was alarmed to find this boy, alive.

I first found him swimming out of a riverbank, deep in the dark shade of the forest, shaking his head and wiping water from of his eyes.

I've never seen anyone like him; he must have been sick at some point, as his wet hair, plastered to his skin, was grayed severely. I took him for an older man, until he swam to the other side of the river, showing a backside that had no pockmarks, and no wrinkles. He was very short, and possessed only the clothes on his back, if they could even be considered clothes anymore. His outfit consisted of rags that was more clumsy patchwork than fabric.

I heard him yell in frustration. The child's voice cracked in three different parts as he said something unintelligible.

Why would a boy be in Ravendall, all alone, and outside of the human safe routes?

Even still, how did a boy end up this deep into the Lost Woods, alive and breathing?

I would have approached him out of concern, even if it wasn't Guðmundr who first alerted me to the boy's presence. As he was putting on his tunic, I called him out from the other side of the river.

"Excuse me, boy," I said. "This a very dangerous place! Don't you have a family to go back to?"

The boy took one look at me, his pale eyes stunned, and scrambled to flee.

I looked down at myself, seeing my sword in my hand. I had been using it to clear paths and obstructive branches.  _Blasted fool,_  I thought. The child must have thought I was going to kill him.

"Wait, I'm just trying to help you, come back!"

Not even bothering to sheathe my sword, I dove into the water. I managed to swim across, with all of the heavier equipment on me, I would like to add, with remarkable speed. My leather padding sopping wet, I chased after the child.

The boy left tracks in his path that were easy to identify; footprints, broken twigs, disturbed bushes, the works. Within seconds, I saw a streak of storm-grey hair that bounced in its own wind. The child turned around, seeing me in hot pursuit, and inexplicably pumped his legs even faster. He sped by a battered oak tree covered in a multitude of deep gouges, lifting leaves off their resting spots with his drift.

My blood ran cold at the very sight of the scarred tree.

"Wait!" I screamed desperately, "don't go anywhere further! Just..."

It was too late. An ear-splitting noise, deep and powerful as the thunder in the skies, shook the ground beneath me. I doubled my speed, cursing the entire situation. The boy had gone and attracted the attention of a bear.

It was a monstrous thing; its shadowed pelt covered thick rolls of pure muscle and fat, and it's teeth gleamed in the sunlight, yellowed and surgically pointed for death. Its ears were tucked low, its claws were unsheathed, and the bear stared down at the source of his anger, dead in the eye. It knew it was king of this territory, the top of the food chain, and he wasn't letting some scrappy kid, paralyzed by the power it emitted, challenge it. It leaned its thick limbs backwards for a pounce.

It was going to kill the child.

"What have you done, boy?" I shouted, as I brandished my sword. I swung at its side, and the bear grunted in surprise, now aware of a new challenger.

It was more nimble than I expected it to be. I thought I had struck a hit, but the only thing my sword had split was empty air. The bear hopped sideways to avoid the blow, and roared at me as well. Spittle flew rabidly from his mouth, scattering everywhere in front of him, and I could smell the awful stench of the bear's halitosis. Covered in bear saliva, I grabbed the scared child and shook him, seething. "I wasn't going to hurt you, unlike fuzzyhead over here."

"I just panicked!" The boy squealed, his face completely colorless. "I thought you were going to kill me!"

Kill you?

Ah. The sword.

The ground shook as hundreds of kilograms stomped over and over again, knocking over undergrowth and kicking up leaves that parted like a spray of water.

"Bear!"

Less questions, more bear-fighting. I threw his small body as far away from me as possible, and leaped back. A brown shade of lightning zoomed by, its tailwind threatening to knock me off my feet. In that moment, I was close enough to feel its coarse fur lightly caress my nose, its musk threatening to overwhelm me with its concentration.

Trying not to imagine what would happen had I been a millimeter closer, I screamed and charged while its back was against me. I tried analyzing the situation, hoping it would lead to an answer that would not leave me or the child in ragged pieces.

Bears, contrary to most pub stories, are actually rational beasts. Sure, they don't seem to have any laws governing them, and Mother Nature gave bears one too many gifts for them to be easily enforced. Big build, sharp teeth, powerful muscles, sharp teeth, daggers for claws, thick hide, sharp teeth, and sharp teeth. If they want to eat, they will eat. If they want to kill, they will kill.

At least a year under Guðmundr taught me differently; Bears are easy to terrify. I've learned to run off bears several times by just waving my cape. I've even seen one run away at the sight of an indifferent forest cat.

It was the middle of the summer time, with plenty of food available, and this bear looked too well off to be anywhere close to starving. If it was merely startled by the boy, I will just have to scare the beast back into running away. Easier said than done, but it's a neater option than trying to kill the thing. I won't be able to protect the child, and I can't guarantee that I will make it out alive, either.

The bear opened its mouth to reveal wide jaws, great vices that would easily crush both me and the boy's head together in a grip. It would be like pressing apples together in a mill.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

The bear moved one of its powerful arms in a blur, and struck me. My sword slipped from my fingers, and I flew sideways, unable to know when my feet will touch the ground again. My back and head slammed into a tree, and I nearly blacked out. My cranium rang like a bell, my wits completely dulled and disoriented. In hindsight, the head injury must have saved me from the agony my back was certainly experiencing.

Check for wounds.

The first thing I did upon mental revival was feel for my chest. I poked into the cut leather with trembling fingers, terrified of any other damages the bear could have done.

My finger touched several links of chains underneath my tunic. Small sections had been torn loose and bent. I concluded that the bear's claws had snagged onto my chainmail. So, instead of being filleted like a prepared fish, I just took a surprise flight trip several meters away. I leaned my head on the forest floor with a deep sigh, relieved that I was mostly unhurt.

Then the ground quaked, as more than half a ton of angry bear stormed toward me.

Of course it had to go after me, at this moment. Stupid, stupid Adam.

It displayed its powerful jaws once more, ready to kill me for daring to confront it. As it sped forward, I gave a world-weary sigh, unable to tell myself to run away. Why bother, when it will easily catch up and shred me to bits? Its hideous mug was only a few centimeters away...

I heard yelling, sharp and cacophonic, from a distance. The bear focused its beady black eyes elsewhere, and I followed suit. There the grey-haired boy was, waving a fallen tree branch, with fresh green leaves still attached, as if it was a flag. He was shouting his voice hoarse without a care in the world.

I thought he had lost his mind. The entire point for me intervening with this creature was because I did not want a dying child in my conscience. Here he was, drawing attention to himself like a freshly cooked steak on a platter, desperately ringing a silver bell while crying "Eat me!" If I didn't know better, I'd say he-

My numbskull brain finally sorted itself out at full capacity; he was buying me time. I wiggled my toes first, and then the rest of my legs. Their muscles were burning and aching something fierce, and I wheezed in pain and fatigue. Slowly, I slipped right between the bear's open mouth, and made a dash for safer grounds once I was a fair distance away. The bear mercifully noticed little, only grunting in confusion at the child.

The boy continued to holler, and pointed his branch to a side briefly before waving it again. I followed his direction, and found my sword gleaming, even in the shade of the Lost Woods, stuck to the hilt in a thick tree. Blasted piece of metal, trying to imitate Excalibur. It wasn't even standing upwards.

I wrapped my hands around the handle, and pulled the sword out like a hot knife through butter, leaving a clean gash in the tree's bark.

_"Wait, is the sword is special?" Anna asked._

_Helge tilted his head upwards to the Princess. "I wouldn't be surprised."_

_So if this Prince Adam really became King of Arendelle, how come I never found a cool three-hundred-year old sword lying around in the castle? We just have a bunch of props!_

_Kristoff smirked. "Because I shudder to think about what you would do with such a thing, feistypants."_

_"Hey!"_

In one smooth motion, I slashed at the bear while its back was turned. The bear howled in terror, and turned around to see that I have wounded its rump, a small mixture of dark hair and blood dripping from its edge. A backside for a backside.

The bear bore its teeth at me, its black eyes following the light of my blade. I prepared myself for a mauling; despite the sword's abilities, it was just an oversized bread knife to this animal's furry and fat butt.

The bear shook the earth as it howled once more. He sounded... high-pitched, for a bear at least. and I raised my head to see that the grey-haired boy had stabbed the bear with his branch, applying all of his weight into the strike. He thrust repeatedly, ramming himself against the beast every time, each jab earning the bear's whimper for its efforts, as he ran over to my side. Evidently forgetting he was supposed to be paranoid of me, he continued to yell incoherently and waving the branch, its end stained with blood. I joined him with my own bellows, raising my dripping sword high in the air.

The mighty bear, finally realizing we were worth too much trouble, turned tail and ran.

* * *

 **Page 68:** I breathed a sigh of relief, and sagged on top of a pile of leaves, my equipment clinking noisily. I gingerly touched my back, feeling a sour pulse of pain in reaction to my touch. Nothing too serious, but it would make for an impressive bruise when I get back home. Still, I smiled at the fleeing creature making rolling echoes in the distance, now barely visible amongst the trees. It wouldn't return here for a while.

I didn't want to fight the bear to the death. The end result would have either end up having the boy killed, or me too weak to protect him any further. I sheathed my sword, and turned to the boy, who stared at me with fright. He didn't run this time, at least. He owed me that much.

_"He seems nice." Olaf commented._

_Kristoff scowled. "He eats reindeer."_

_"Kristoff, I think you should just let it go."_

_"Coming from_ you _, Olaf..."_

I cleared my throat, and assumed the most regal stance a man with back pain can offer. "My name -ach- is Prince Adam of Ravendall, and you are a complete fool for running away from me. If I haven't decided to pursue you, you would have just been one more ghost in these woods."

"I-I'm sorry," the boy said meekly, his filthy grey hair drooping as low as his demeanor. He flicked his eyes to my scabbard. "Is it okay if I tell you my name as well?"

I blinked twice. What kind of question was that? "I don't see why you shouldn't."

The boy inhaled, and stuck out an arm. "My name's Algar."

_Anna frowned. "Algar? What kind of name is that?"_

_"It's a rare one. It originated from what I believe is what you folks call England." Helge answered._

_Elsa thought of a distant land mass, located at the far end of the North Sea. "What would a boy from England do to end up in a country as far as Norway, much less Ravendall?"_

_"Good question, Elsa. Maybe's he's a lost prince?"_

_"Let's find out." Olaf suggested._

"My name's Algar."

"Where are your parents?"

He replied, rushed and clipped. "They aren't around."

"Well, Algar, I would say it is a pleasure to meet you, but my aching back is saying otherwise. What on earth are you doing here?"

"I-I-I don't know," he stammered, dropping his tree branch. "I just hear this place has very little people."

I don't believe it; I found myself a wannabe hermit. Bad choice to stay, kid.

Algar's voice gained some strength. "What are YOU doing here?"

"I have a friend who told me of someone disturbing these parts. Didn't know it was a kid as young as you here." Naturally, it wasn't Guðmundr's job to care; I had to pick up the slack for him.

"Hey, I'm not a kid, okay? I'll have you know that I am fifteen!"

"Seriously? Only two years younger than me?" I poked him in the bony arms. "You're pretty scrawny for your age..."

"Oh!" The boy blushed furiously out of embarrassment. "I'm sorry for troubling you, then. I-I'll just be away from your sight, and never annoy you again…"

"Wait, Algar!"

Please, just go away! I don't want you to get hurt!"

Yep. Either he was lying about his age, or he was cursed to retain a perpetually waifish figure. If he were older, he would still look like an orphan boy, tossed on the streets.

"You can't just go running off again, you know?" I should have been treating him with more respect, considering the small age gap, but his behavior is akin to that of a jumpy child. "You'll only end up as food for something worse than a bear. Perhaps a giant, even!"

The boy's eyes widened. " A gia-" He coughed, and tucked his hands beneath his armpits. "But... I think it's best if you don't trouble me. This is my fifth day staying here. I can handle myself."

Something roared with a deep bass. I looked around in curiosity, certain that it wasn't a bear this time. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Algar reflexively feel for his stomach. "Indeed, you are so capable, you can go on forever without food."

I picked up the boy's fallen tree branch, still stained with a spot of ursine blood. I drew a simple hunting knife from my belt, nothing special about it. "We've got no pole, but there is a lake nearby, with plenty to catch." I began cutting out errant twigs and leaves, intending to make a decent pole out of the branch. "I can at least teach you how to spearfish, then drop you off out of this forest. The last thing I need is to explain to myself why I left a kid to die in the wilderness."

"But-"

"Quiet, you. I'm being very generous for a prince here. Once I get you out of here, you can go on to live your dream as a hermit."

"A hermi-" I glared at the boy before he finished. His shoulders sagged with defeat. "Well…" Algar looked all around him, not particularly focused anywhere. "I suppose I could learn."

I grinned victoriously. "Give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish…"

"...And he'll eat for a lifetime," Algar mumbled quietly.

Alright, now I  _definitely_  have to help him.

_"Aw, Adam's actually sweet! He sounds just like you, sis!" Anna grinned up at Elsa._

_"I-I don't see the connection."_

_"He cares and helps people, even if he doesn't show it all the time."_

_"R-really..." Elsa said, slightly flustered._

_"Yeah! Didn't you shut yourself out and kind of accidently freeze summer because you wanted to protect Arendelle?"_

_"Olaf..." Kristoff warned._

_"Oh... I'm so sorry, Elsa. You can make it stop snowing now. You don't need to protect us anymore. We're happy and safe now, especially you!"_

_"...I'm very glad to hear that. Thank you."_

_Olaf beamed. "Wonderful! To celebrate everyone being happy, I'll go get some mugs of warm milk!"_

_Elsa smiled at the little snowman. There was nothing that needs forgiving. "Okay. Just don't go drinking the stuff yourself, Olaf."_

_"Don't forget cocoa on mine!" Anna called after him. She glanced at her sister. "Oh, put some in Elsa's too!"_

* * *

**Page 69:** The boy was indeed intelligent. He watched me with attentive eyes, full of a hunger for knowledge that the I myself wished I could express to my tutors, and maybe Trigve. He made sure to follow my deft movements with his new makeshift spear, practicing the motions over and over, until there was hardly a lack of clumsiness.

Within just half an hour, Algar had caught his first fish, a beautiful silver thing that was plump and juicy. Elated with his success, he nearly dropped the fish back into the lake by forgetting to hold onto it tightly. He was so full of excitement and pride, he could barely stand still as he watch me clean our catch. I showed him how to gut, to pull out gills, and to make a spit.

Throughout the entire lesson, he smiled, beaming brighter than the sun.

It looked good on him.

I laid some wood I picked from the forest floor, and tossed them to a pit I dug out. I pulled a flint from my pouch.

"Shouldn't we get some fuel to get the fire started first?" Algar looked at my belongings, perplexed. "You don't look like you have cotton on you. Hey, you can use a bit of my shirt-"

I laughed, saying, "Keep your shirt on, Algar. I have little fascination in a person like you!"

"W-what? What kind of answer is that?"

"Nothing, I'm just teasing you." I muttered a gentle word under my breath. "This wood should be more than enough to keep the fire going."

I struck my flint once, sending a single spark that landed on the pit. A great fire came forth, as intense as if it had been burning for hours on oil. Algar watched me in awe. "H-How did you do that?"

"I've got friends on the other side."

"You're a witch?"

The atmosphere suddenly became heavy. A summer birdsong was the only thing that was sharp enough to pierce the blanket of silence. The boy clasped his mouth, horrified at what he had done. My fingers felt for the pommel of my sword, and I was cautious of what to say next.

"That's a strange word, coming at me, coming from you."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. I relaxed myself, slipping my fingers away from the blade. Blasted, forest-induced paranoia. "It's just... these past five days, I saw so many magical happenings that still felt like dreams, and then you came along and save my life, and there's that thing that you did with the fire? You just seemed so relaxed in this place, you know? I was hardly able to survive, and you knew everything and how, despite not being a country man, but royalty! And, and-"

I cut off his rambling with a swipe of my hand. "Don't worry, I'm no witch." I pondered on the subject for a bit, entertaining a little fantasy about someone more powerful replacing me for ol' Guðmundr's services. "I would  _like_  to meet one, though. It could get a load of work off of my back."

"...It must be nice to make and have friends..."

"You mean you've never had one?" He's just another kid, like the lonelier ones back at town who were the happiest to see me. Probably because I talked to them.

We spent the rest of the time talking about my (mis)adventures in Ravendall's Woods. I told him of the elf that slapped me so hard, I skipped like a stone on the lake surface, and the many times where I tried to comfort some ghosts so they would stop overcrowding the trees. I even described some of the messier stuff I had to do for pest control, such as chasing off a Fenrir. My back was feeling much better itself, with some roasted fish fueling its recovery.

It wasn't until we began packing up for the trip out did I approach the boy's hermit status. "So, why don't you hang around people?"

"I just don't..."

"Hm?"

"It's hardly worth the trouble."

It was getting late, and just convincing Algar to chat before was difficult enough. I raised my hands in a surrendering gesture. "Alright, alright. I won't ask... But seriously, it's not great to be alone forever."

What? I had to have my way  _somehow_.

"I mean, look at my brother. He never spends time anywhere, just staying in the stuffy old castle, talking in various languages that all mean the same thing: work. He doesn't have any real friends to hang out with.

"That's why he gets on my case a lot, and hates that I don't listen to him. Every time I run off to the Lost Woods, the man does nothing but alternate between a worrywart and a workaholic. I have to prepare for a vocal whipping whenever I come home. What I say sounds foolish to him, and what he says sounds dull and trite. Trigve is beginning to fuss just as much as Mother did."

Mother. I paused myself, sobered.

What was it like, to overwork yourself day and night, with little rest? What was it like, to have no one to confide to after a long day, to have no one to feel secure with?

What was it like, to have only one family member who you can no longer connect to?

Algar and I walked on a path, one that I had discovered in my first week as Guðmundr's help, much to the delight of Ravendall's traders.

This road, one of several, contained the least amount of threats that prey on humans. They aren't perfect, especially as of recently, but paths like these cut straight through the woods with as little trouble as possible, saving hours of time. It wasn't long before we found ourselves outside, the mass of trees standing behind us. Ahead of the us were clear skies and open fields, serene and secure. The sun was beginning its daily dip down into the horizon.

The young man should do well from here. "You sure you'll be alright?"

Algar, the grey-haired boy, nodded. "Yeah. I've said it before. I can handle myself."

"Take care, then." I watched Algar as he hiked towards the open horizon, his dark silhouette contrasting against the fiery sky and grass. He could hardly take more than a few steps before I spoke to him again.

"Say... You're a little low on friends aren't you?"

The boy stopped and turned on his feet, but remained silent.

"How about I have the honor of being your first friend, Algar?"

"R-really?"

"Come on, kid," I drawled, ribbing him. "A Prince walks up to you to ask for friendship? Lesser folks would have given half a leg for such a privilege. You should be leaping with joy right now." I dropped the act, my voice sincere. "We had fun with each other, didn't we?"

"I guess..."

"Atta boy. If the hermit life no longer suits you, just find others like me. You'll be making some good companions pretty quickly!"

"I don't think most people are princes."

"Someone who  _feels_  like me," I amended. Smart-aleck.

"What if..." He paused, slightly losing his composure. "What if... I want to see you again someday?"

Huh.

"I don't really know," I admitted. "Hopefully not in these woods, that's for sure. I'm sure we'll find each other somehow. You have a Prince's promise."

We stared at each other with straight faces. Then, we couldn't help ourselves. We broke into belly-aching laughter that rolled throughout the hallowed and haunted grounds. We saw it in each other's eyes; there was no chance in Hel of us ever seeing each other again. This is the fork in the road, and our brief meeting together was splitting apart into opposite directions.

That's fine with me.

"I'm being genuine about the "friends" thing, though," I reaffirmed him.

"I know." Laughter still danced in the young man's eyes, truly happy for this eventful day. "Goodbye, Prince Adam of Ravendall."

"Farewell, and safe travels, Algar!"

* * *

"Helge, were you able to find the journal entry we were looking for?

Helge frowned, flipping past pages. "I hope we will soon, at least. This isn't the right date at all. I think I'm a few weeks away from the actual event, as of now." He raised his head to the blond man. "You seemed rushed, Kristoff."

"That would be because two of my friends were never raised by trolls." He gestured his head at the royal sisters.

Helge craned his stub of a neck to look. Indeed, Elsa was developing dark bruises under her eyes, and her posture was extra rigid and proper. She had been using her skills as a queen, normally limited to the boring councils that would last for hours of useless debates on end with neither agreements nor compromises, to maintain consciousness. Nevertheless, several hours into the night had worn her regal disposition down, until she fought to keep her wavering eyelids open.

At Kristoff's mention of the word "friend," Elsa perked up, noticing the two observing her, and flitted her eyes between them, her cheeks pink. The air dropped a degree or two, but it was hardly evident.

Anna meanwhile, long ago had one foot in the land of dreams already. Her face appeared lively enough, but she would nod off, tilting her freckled head downwards every few seconds. Once her dainty chin touching her chest, she would spring awake with start, eyes wide, pigtails swinging, and freckles rendered nearly invisible, only to repeat the process once more. It would have been easier if she had decided to just pass out instead.

After just eight seconds, the Princess agreed with the sentiment. Completely out cold, her head flopped onto the table like a sack of snoring cabbages, startling poor Helge into falling off. A trail of saliva dribbled from her mouth, and onto the polished wood.

Kristoff was about to lean forward and wipe Anna's freckled cheeks and open mouth with a strong hand, but then became aware that her sister, his Queen, was sitting right in front of him.

Even after three weeks of living together, they hardly saw each other face-to-face; Elsa made sure to always retain enough time to spend with her sister daily, but buried herself in her private study in almost any other occasion. The mountain man would be ashamed to admit that he would prefer it this way.

It's not that Kristoff hated Elsa; he learned to love her almost as much as Anna does. In reality, he kept his distance out of doubt; he felt slightly guilty for being Anna's boyfriend, when Elsa literally owed her a lifetime of happiness together. Was Kristoff being a thief, for forcing Elsa to share Anna's precious love? Was he stealing Anna away from the sister who clearly craves Anna's affection more?

The Snow Queen's blue eyes, despite being the same shade as his loving girlfriend's, pierced his heart like sharp icicles.

He raised his hand towards Anna in hesitation, and found his confidence lacking. He tried again, but the Queen's curious stare was pushing him away from the Princess. He sighed, and settled for shaking the lady's shoulders gently.

Anna opened one eye lazily, the corners of her lips stretching from ear to ear upon seeing her boyfriend. Kristoff was nearly forced to look away from her radiance. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Queen gazing at Anna, now completely relaxed and healthy-looking, a loving smile on her own face.

 _Yet another difference between us two,_  he thought bitterly.

Helge finally crawled back onto the desk. "Everyone's wide awake and conscious now?"

"Yes, yes! I am very much awake, thank you! I am so, totally awake!" Anna piped. She wiped at her lips with her sleeve, and, with some disgust, rubbed the puddle of drool she left behind on the desk.

Helge laughed deeply, saying, "Since you guys have unfortunately not learned to become nocturnal yet, I suppose I would just have to rush through these journal entries until we find the right one, before you three expire from sleep deprivation."

"Sounds like a plan." Anna said, stifling a yawn.

He circled one page with a finger, muttering to himself ways to paraphrase. Helge would have to, because he will not be available during daylight, and Arendelle is constrained for time.

* * *

" **Page 70:** He chased a bandit named Holger into the forest one day. Holger was very infamous for pilfering homes and attacking innocents in Ravendall, and carried a spear that he claimed was made by the denizens of Hel. Overall, he wasn't too stable. Holger didn't see where he was going, ignoring Adam's requests to stop. He fell down a cliff to his doom before Adam can save him. The Prince locked himself in his room afterwards for hours, ignoring Trigve's reasoning that the man would have been executed anyway."

"Do the two brothers reconcile?" Elsa asked quietly.

"It doesn't say...

" **Page 73:** He was hunting a stag when he was approached by a black dog, about the size of a pony. Despite its mass was very friendly towards him, and only watched as Adam shot the deer down. Adam started telling it stories as he had always done, idly realizing the dog understood his language. They make a detour to the Lonely Ash Tree. The Landvættir was not amused to see the dog when it saw the two gnawing on some roast rib; Guðmundr waved a hand, and the dog's true form briefly rippled from its apparent body. The dog was revealed to be a Flygia in disguise."

Kristoff was slightly curious about this creature. "A Flygia?"

"Shapeshifter, follows one with good luck."

"Well, Adam is pretty lucky, from what we've heard," Anna reasoned. "It would make sense, I guess."

"They could also signify a 'change in luck.'

The library was silent in response to this statement.

"Guðmundr said the same thing to Adam, warning him to be careful. Adam heads out to leave, trying to shoo the Flygia away. The faux-dog continued to follow him, until it stopped at the very end of the forest, watching Adam make his way home.

 **"Page 75:** Adam is working on consoling this one new ghost, Kjellfrid. She had..."

* * *

The troll's voice trailed off, leading to a very pregnant pause.

"What's wrong, Helge?" Kristoff asked.

The troll narrowed his eyes, his brows dangerously close to meeting each other. "I found it," he said quietly.

He looked up at the mountain man and the Royal Sisters. "This should hopefully be accurate to how we will expect the Spøkelse to attack." He lowered his voice. "Would you like me to paraphrase this part as well, or read it in full?"

Something did not seem right about that sentence. The answer should be obvious. But Anna, in a rare moment of consideration before speaking, decided that it must be elaborated. "Wait, what? Why is that even an option?"

"Because..." Helge hesitated. "Milady, knowledge can be horrifying at times. Five years under Grand Pabbie's tutelage has granted me nightmares and dark thoughts that required the entire Valley's support to crawl myself out of." He stared off into space and shuddered at some, distant memory that he had come to term with at one point. "I will not speak of them now, for the night is dark enough as it is. I have no wish to trouble your minds at this late hour, especially as we read the last pages of Adam the Adventurer's journal. If the late King had ever told you this part of the tale, he would have been wise enough to hold back information.

"What is written in this journal may have you three lose whatever capacity you had for sleeping, at least until the Spøkelse is finally rid of once and for all. You will fear, become paranoid of any hint that may lead a possible coming. Every step, every odd lighting, even simple thoughts, you will suspect them of the demon's influence. Prince Adam turned mad when still resting in Ravendall for a reason."

He breathed deeply, and faced the queen directly. "After what I have just told you, I would like to ask once more: Do you still want the full story?"

Helge knew Elsa was endowed with great human spirit within her, just like the rest of her expanded family. The outburst in the stables was more than proof enough. However, she was brittle as thin ice, and behaved ever-so meek and tentative since Helge's acquaintance; there was something restricting within her, an internally raging storm that Grand Pabbie had feared would snuff whatever hope Elsa could muster to bring forth.

So, when she abruptly stood up from her chair and slammed her hands on the table, the troll saw a white flame licking within her icy blue eyes, impassioned, terrific, and beautiful, threatening to break free. Her face was set, her dark brows arched downwards steeply, and Helge finally saw the Queen of Arendelle within Elsa.

There is hope against the Spøkelse of Ravendall, after all.

Anna leaned closer to her sister. "Elsa..."

"I want to listen to every detail," the queen said, with conviction. "As Queen, I have to know."

If what Helge said was true, and her kingdom is in grave danger, Elsa must have a full comprehension of what Arendelle will be up against. She had firsthand experience of the dangers of what a simple misinterpretation, a message lost in passing, can do.

It cost Elsa's beautiful kingdom a monarch equally fit to rule it. It cost her parents their lives and legacy. It nearly cost her Anna.

"This will be for the kingdom's protection. If I will suffer sleepless nights or a fate worse than death, so be it." Shards of ice, glittering with a fire like diamonds, sprouted between Elsa's fingertips. They were not products of her fears and anxieties now, but a manifestation of her revealed resolve. "I will not have my people harmed by any threats so long as I'm in reign."

_I will not lose my people._ _I will not lose my family again._

_That is a Queen's promise._

* * *

**So anyway, everyone give a massive applause to FrozenRose1, who had done an outstanding job already as an editor with this chapter. She was able to turn my fanfic into something that was up to snuff, rather than just an amateur work with promise.**

**I'm also massively grateful for what she has done with the in-between storytime dialogue. You know, the ones that were italicized. No, she didn't actually write the talking, but FrozenRose1 pointed out that there needed to be actual dialogue markings, rather than just the words itself.**

**I thought I was being clever at the time, intending for you readers to guess who was talking to who, so I nearly shot myself in the foot that there.**

**So, I was grateful that she took the time to add the myriad of different ways to write "said." Flipping hotcakes, I could never come up with such terms that could feel fresh by myself. Rose, you saved me at least an hour of migraines.**

**I think that makes parts of this chapter hers. Credit where credit is due, right?**

**Once again, everyone give a cheer for FrozenRose1!**

**Oh, and here's a question for you guys that clearly has nothing to do with the Spøkelse (Nothing at all. Period. This is in no way a Suspiciously Specific Denial): If an uber-powerful monster were to go on a rampage around town, would it be more like Disney to keep it alive, vanquish it, or send it running?**

**See you guys soon, Fans of _Frozen._**


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